Wounded Souls
by Sean Montgomery
Summary: Sometimes, we need someone unexpected to help us heal the wounds created by others. S/R told from Romelle's POV. DD Comics, GoLion and dub timeline kinda mixed together. Contains intense emotional angst, rape, violence, minor language, and a happy ending.
1. Act I: Sometimes: Dead Inside

Disclaimers: I don't own Voltron. If I did, there'd be an awesome movie with something people tend to forget in movie adaptations of anime: a plot.

I very carefully head back into this fandom after discovering an absolute crime: this couple gets no love. I can see the movement in the K/A area (heck, I'm a K/A shipper, too) but noticed that very little fic is written about Sven and Romelle, despite the fact that their relationship is one of the most tragic and triumphant in the fandom. That said, I'm giving myself the mission to tell their story. And I don't intend for it to be pretty. I'm repeating what I said in the synopsis: the rating might go up in the future to be safe, but it will feature emotional trauma, rape, angst, and lots and lots of gritty chapters. We all know that a happy ending came, but it was getting there that was tough. People that go through what Romelle did take a long time to recover. I hope to interpret that well, yet with respect for those who have had the same (or similar) situation befall them.

Dedication: To those who have been in Romelle's shoes. There is never any shame in getting help. There is always a hero and inspiration to others on the other side.

* * *

When I woke up, I clearly remember hoping two things: one, that my body was numb enough that I would never feel pain ever again. I'd suffered enough pain in the last several months.

Two, that I would die soon since I obviously wasn't dead already. However, the more I realized I could pick up things – skittering of rats across the bones surrounding me, distant footfalls from the cliffs above, and the headache beginning to throb in my mind – the more I realized I was going to be okay. I don't think I've ever been more disappointed in my life.

What was left of it, anyway. As far as I was concerned, I was perfectly content to lie there until I was dead. In the condition Lotor left me in, it couldn't be much longer. I became morbidly curious to see what condition I was in physically, so I gently moved my limbs and fingers. I could feel smooth bone and rock, along with several other things I didn't want to identify. I slowly balled my hand into a fist and realized I couldn't do it a split second before white-hot pain shot into my arm. A soft groan pushed its way past my lips.

Something was broken or sprained. Either Lotor did it before he threw me into the Pit of Skulls, or it happened during the fall. Neither was beyond reason. I half-expected him to laugh triumphantly at the defeat of the Polluxian Empire, but I heard no such thing. He and his escort must have made their way back to Castle Doom once they left me here. Damaged goods, he had said. The last potential leader for Pollux and its defense against Doom. Bandor was left completely at Lotor's mercy, and I was helpless to do anything about it.

I felt a deep sigh leave me as more bones pressed uncomfortably into my back. Hope was the weakest thing I had anymore. Months of living in Lotor's harem and being subjected to his abuse had taken the toll he wished for. I hated myself for it. Damaged goods, indeed. No wonder I wanted to die.

Faint footfalls echoed off the steep walls of the Pit. I could tell they weren't from above, but I wondered who would still survive in a place such as this. With the amount of slaves in Zarkon's service, there was probably someone sent to make sure those that were thrown in the Pit were dead. A faint light shone beyond my closed eyes. I waited for the quiet clock of a laser, but heard nothing other than the steps coming closer. Perhaps they preferred execution style?

The footsteps came closer and closer, eventually crushing bone and shifting rock beneath it. I waited for some kind of indication that I was going to be killed when I realized that there was no way the light could come from a Doom soldier. It wasn't nearly bright enough, and I could tell they had stopped beside me. Perhaps they really were further up the walls than I thought? But that didn't explain the sounds coming from my side…

Fingers brushed the hair away from my neck and felt my pulse. I knew for sure this couldn't be a Doom soldier; having been dragged from room to room by them numerous times, I knew their hands were cold, clammy and rough with intent. The hand resting on my shoulder was gentle and warm, yet unfamiliar. I decided to be bold and slowly opened my eyes.

The headache I felt earlier suddenly throbbed painfully in my head. The light was fire, and the person beside me most certainly wasn't a Doom soldier. I had already clenched my eyes shut, but from what little I saw, the person was very much a man with a very thick beard.

Perhaps my fate was worse than death. Was this man someone who got the leftovers from Lotor's harem?

"You're badly hurt," he suddenly said. His accent was thick, and something I certainly had never heard before. He paused; it sounded like he shifted, and suddenly the light was gone.

"I must get you out of here, but I'm afraid I must set your arm." He muttered something in a different language – his own tongue, I assume – and I felt his hands gently take hold of my arm. It hurt already. I slightly groaned. I've had enough with pain. I just hoped that whatever he did was going to be quick.

"Take a deep breath," he whispered. I must have, because suddenly he gripped my arm tightly.

I can't remember if I tried to scream. It seemed like lightening shot up my arm, and I was unconscious before I knew anything else.

When I regained consciousness, I thought it strange that I was still alive. I didn't feel rested at all, and the throbbing in my head was the first thing that woke me up. For one thing, I knew I wasn't still in the Pit – I was laying flat on my back, not twisted like I was before, and I felt as though I had been taken care of. There was no sound echoing off the walls; the man that had found me earlier must have brought me to another place. Bracing myself for the unexpected, I slowly opened my eyes.

The dull grey of rock was the first thing I saw. Light was faint to my left. It hurt to move my head too much, but I could see a torch wedged between stones, the heat from the flame warming my face. That was enough for now; I tightly shut my eyes and moved my head forward, intent on falling back asleep in hopes that I would fade.

Although, my wounds didn't feel nearly as bad as they did before. Slowly and gently, I lifted the arm that had been grasped by the man… and realized it was resting on my abdomen, set in a sling. It still hurt, but it wasn't anything nearly as bad as it was before. Had he drugged me?

Footsteps echoed down the walls again, and fear suddenly wrapped me in its claws. I was completely at the mercy of whoever was soon to find me. I couldn't help the memories that flashed through my mind: an elaborate bedroom, larger than any one would find on Pollux… the horrible harem clothing I was forced to wear that covered so little and was so sheer it left little to the imagination… the feral amber eyes… the fanged smile with such sinister intent… the rough, clawed hands, brutal strength, and tongue… the name of another louder in my ears than the screams from my throat… the whispered words that held so much truth…

_You're mine…_

I clenched my eyes shut, willing the tears not to fall and my body to stop shaking. It couldn't be him; Lotor wouldn't go deep into the Pit to see if one was dead.

… would he?

I forced back a whimper. The footsteps were close now, and if I couldn't calm down soon, there'd be no way to hide that I was awake. I tried to take deep breaths, but the memories were still too fresh, the situation too similar… I would try and stare as defiantly as I could at this person once he found me alive. If he planned to take me, at least I had teeth to fight back with.

I opened my eyes once again and found the corridor in front of me was lit with another torch. The light barely made the person visible, but I closed my mouth and stared anyway. The tears finally fell from my eyes, but I keep them rooted to the light once that was all I could see.

For a moment he stopped. Then he started moving toward me a little quicker than before. I couldn't help it – the exhale also released a whimper. I blinked the tears away and tried to compose myself, but the realization that this wasn't Lotor was such a relief despite the fact that this man could be much, much worse…

"It's alright," came that accent. Suddenly the bearded man was in front of me, setting his torch near the one that warmed me. "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

_It will hurt every time. I promise you that._

My conviction of defiance melted away at the memory. I could feel every muscle quivering under the man's intense stare. I tried to back away, but it hurt so much to move. I finally managed to turn my head away from him, but the attempt was so pathetic it caused more tears to pour from my eyes.

"You have nothing to fear from me." His voice was calm, soothing, like one who spoke to a child. "I want to help you. The wounds you've suffered from the fall are bad. May I look at them?"

I had to swallow several times to get my voice. It was a miracle I could speak, but the frightened tone wasn't going to get me anywhere. "Please…" It came out on a squeak, unrecognizable to me. "Stay away from me."

There was a brief pause. I expected him to get angry, but when I tried to look at him defiantly again, he was still in the same squatted position he was before, though his eyes looked slightly… sad. Sympathetic.

I didn't want sympathy. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to die.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," he whispered, which made understanding him a little harder. "I need to check on the wounds that were bleeding. Infection travels very easily around here."

"Then leave me to its mercy."

I expected him to be puzzled. If he wasn't going to hurt me, and seemed genuine in his sympathy, the most logical thought for hearing a death wish was to wonder why one wanted to die.

That's when I realized that he probably knew. And there had been nothing stopping him from hurting me already. The continued sadness in his gaze proved my suspicions wrong but I couldn't help but wonder…

"Stay away from me, you bastard." They were words that I had always wanted to say to Lotor. Now that I was no longer faced with the crown prince, I felt I was close enough to death that I could finally say what I desired for so long. If he did plan on killing me, I would at least say the words I'd always wanted to.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, shifting to his knees. "I will not allow you to die here. Not when I can help you."

I was torn between relief at his kindness and anger. How dare he think he can help me? "If you want to do that," I said bitterly. "You can kill Lotor."

For the first time, genuine hatred filled his eyes. I was momentarily startled, but it dissolved just as quickly. "Believe me," he said evenly. "If I could, he would be dead already."

And if Lotor were dead, this wouldn't have happened to me. This man was not a hero.

An understanding seemed to briefly pass between us. Our duel hatred for Lotor was common ground, but not enough for me to completely trust him. He turned to his side and lifted a small bowl, setting it between his knees. He slowly set his hands inside then lifted a white rag, sopping with water. "You need something to drink. This would be easier with a cup, but it's harder to take two things from the kitchens than it is one."

I looked greedily at the water freely flowing between his fingers and back into the bowl. As much as I wanted to believe him, I had seen drugged water one too many times to be fooled so easily. I looked back at him, but kept my mouth shut.

He seemed to understand. Taking the rag, he lifted it above his head and twisted it over his mouth. He was able to get a good mouthful, and his beard was dripping when he looked back at me. "I'll let you drink, then use the rest for cleaning your wounds." He set the rag back into the bowl and let it soak for a moment.

I hated to admit it, but I became so tired and realized how thirsty I was at the exact moment. If he were going to kill me, he was going to die, anyway. When he lifted the rag over my mouth, the cool water was unlike any refreshment I'd had in so long. I became slightly impatient; my first chance of pure water in months was an amazing feeling. Why hadn't he lifted the bowl and let me drink?

"You had quite a fall," he said suddenly, pointing absently to my neck. "You have bruises everywhere. I didn't want to take you from the Pit in case your neck was broken, but I guess that was not the case."

_You will not run from me again. And if I must make you unable to run, I will._

He was grasping my neck when he said that. It had only been hours before I had been thrown into the Pit, but I guess the marks were showing already. From the look on the bearded man's face, they were probably in the shape of Lotor's hand.

Watching my face carefully, he lifted the rag from the bowl, wrung out the remaining water, and wrapped it around his hand. He moved his hand to hover just above the skin of my arm, and looked at my face. "You have wounds that need to be cleaned."

Despite his generosity, I felt anger welling in me again. He might have his suspicions of what happened to me, but that didn't give him a right to try and help me. "I want to die," I said, and the lack of hesitation in my voice was clear though I shook with a fresh set of tears.

The bearded man stared at me. "I know," he whispered. He let his hand rest over my arm and very gently started to clean a cut.

I turned away from him, too angry and tired to resist his stubbornness. "What's your name?"

He took a moment to answer, but his hand was still moving over my arm. "My name is Sven."

Sven. I had never heard the name before, but it was strangely satisfying to know it belonged to him. I closed my eyes and let the tears flow. I had nothing to lose anymore. "I hate you, Sven." I whispered quietly.

He never stopped cleaning my arm. "I know."


	2. Forsaken

_I want someone to hurt,_

_Like the way I hurt,_

_It's sick but it makes me feel better…_

* * *

_Oh my dear princess… what did I tell you about harming yourself? _

Oh goddess… he found out. His fingers tightened their hold on my arm and yanked it toward him forcefully. He gently traced the red abrasions with a nail. The dread in my stomach continued to grow.

_I'm obviously not treating you well enough if you must inflict pain. Why didn't you just tell me?_

No, no, no…

_You should know by now that if it's pain you want, it's pain I'll happily provide. _

Please no…

_I'm feeling especially gracious tonight. _The nail that trailed down my arm lifted to my neck. _Perhaps it'll serve as a wonderful reminder to remember my words. _He moved me closer so his lips were by my ear, the scent of his breath making it clear he hadn't been drinking that night; it did little to comfort me. _And I swear that if you didn't understand me before, you will tonight… Allura._

I closed my eyes to stop the tears. Struggling would result in more pain; submitting would do the same. When I said nothing, he harshly bit the side of my jaw, his other hand trailing to my hip…

* * *

My eyes shot open. It only took seconds, but I could still see those amber eyes in the rock above me. Their impact hadn't changed at all. Everything else about him crawled over my skin.

I shuddered and felt a whimper leave my lips. Damn him.

There was an audible grunt to my left. Turning my head, I saw someone with their back to me, struggling to get their arms in their shirt. For a moment it looked like there were bandages across their back, but the shirt fell over the wrapping before I could be sure. Moments later, they turned to me. Sven immediately looked at my face… and panicked. His eyes widened, and he grabbed the bottom of his shirt self-consciously. "How long have you been awake?" he said gruffly, his accent thickening.

Why did that matter to him? Irritation shot through me. If he wouldn't give in to my request last night, there was no reason for me to answer him here. I turned away from him, this time on my side. My body ached from the fall, but I didn't care. I didn't have to look at him anymore.

The silence seemed to go on forever. For a moment I wondered if he walked away, but something dropped by my head that made me jump.

"There's a small pool of water to your left. It's not very clean, but it's the best there is to bathe yourself." He turned on his heel. "Don't keep the bowl for too long. Someone will notice it's missing."

His footsteps echoed until I couldn't hear them anymore. I ignored the bowl and the thought of a bath. Nothing seemed inviting anymore. I knew how pointless a bath was. Water could only clean so much; dirty water would do less.

Despite the ache of my muscles, I brought my legs up to my chest and held them close, feeling, for at least a moment, that Lotor really was out of reach. My head began to gently throb, but I fell asleep before it got worse.

* * *

I snapped awake when a blanket was pulled to my shoulders.

"It's fine," Sven answered above me. "It's only me."

That was supposed to be reassuring? If my head hadn't been throbbing again, I would have recoiled. Instead I buried my head into the blanket. "What's wrong with me?" I moaned.

"You have a small bump on your head," Sven answered immediately. The tone of his voice was completely different from the last time he spoke to me. "You probably hit your head when you were tossed into the Pit." He paused this time, and his voice held guilt. "I didn't consider that earlier."

I wanted to snap back at him, but lacked the energy. It was far more comfortable to try and gather heat from the scratchy blanket, but the rock below was so cold that I couldn't help but shiver. Sven gently placed some clothes in front of me.

"I brought you these," he said when he was behind me again. "What you're wearing isn't really… appropriate for the temperatures of the caves. These will help keep you warm."

I could remember a time when a comment like that would make me blush and cover my face. After the last couple of months… it didn't matter anymore. I stared blankly at the clothes. "Where did you get these?"

He remained quiet. It took a moment for it to register for me; someone had died in them. His cause was noble, but I couldn't appreciate it. Not when I wanted to refuse his consideration.

He turned from my side. "Take them if you want them."

Touching a nerve with him made me feel better. I thought I had gotten it through that I didn't want his help, that I'd rather he'd leave me alone. If he was trying to nurse me back to health before he had his way, he was more twisted than I thought.

He was so similar to Lotor it was terrifying.

"Stop wasting my time," I whispered, feeling tears down my nose and cheek. I could almost feel his eyes looking at me. "Do what it is you're planning to do."

His voice was like ice when he answered. "What are you talking about?"

A bitter laugh left me. "You know what I'm talking about. It's not going to help you if you nurse me back to health. You might as well save some time."

He was excellent at pretending to wonder what I was talking about. I was ready for him to rip off the blanket and pin me to the cold cave floor. Did he really need more provocation? When he said nothing, I sighed loudly. "Were you an assistant to him? You've been waiting for a whore to fall into your arms so you—"

He grabbed my shoulder and flipped me to my back, pinning me to the floor. I would have closed my eyes and let him do what he wished, but the brief glance I saw of his face captured my attention. He looked absolutely enraged.

"Don't you _dare_ compare me to him." The hand on my shoulder clenched into a fist, a finger pointing at me accusingly. "That man is a cancer to the universe. I would rather die than join the ranks of that bastard."

I was completely frozen. I knew provoking him wasn't a good idea, but I couldn't help at the satisfaction it brought me. Someone could feel a touch of the pain Lotor had caused me. He would never fully understand. He couldn't heal me.

"Then why are you still here? Go avenge yourself and leave me be!"

"Didn't I tell you he'd be dead if I had the chance?" He yelled, shaking me in his fury.

Something in me snapped. My mutual feeling of anger began to slightly turn to fear – fear that his hidden strength would overpower me much like Lotor had so many times before. I was at Sven's mercy just as I was his.

"You have no idea what I've seen." Sven continued, but his voice was considerably quieter. Somehow it was more terrifying. "Zarkon and Lotor are more brutal to these people than you can imagine."

Anger immediately faded between us both. It was amazing; with one comment he remembered whom he was talking to, and the condition he found me. If I had any suspicion that he was a wild man before, I was certain of it now. Only the goddesses knew how long he had spent in these caves, but it was obvious it had been too long.

"Let go of me," I whispered. It was a strange mix of terror and anger. If Sven could tell, he didn't show it. He simply released me, quickly turned, and left me alone.

My satisfaction faded away. I couldn't tell if my sudden misery was because he had struck a cord between us, or because I tried so hard to make him angry.

I realized, when turning back to my side, I didn't care.

"I hate you, Sven," I whispered, and buried my face in the blanket once more.


	3. Baptism Of Insanity

Please note the rating change effective this chapter - _Wounded Souls_ is officially rated **M**. We're getting to the gritty stuff now.

* * *

The next morning I discovered I could sit up without my head throbbing.

Wonderful. I actually had a chance of escape. If I could escape.

Putting the weight on my good arm, wincing when I moved my stiff legs, I was able to sit up. I turned my head to look at the corridor surrounding me. Two mostly flat stones set into a small groove in the cave wall made the flat rock I had been resting on. Rock stretched on before and behind me. The only visible light was the torch propped next to me. Sven must have been there earlier to replace it. The pull of the sling against my neck made me look down at myself, and I gasped at what I saw. No wonder Sven had brought me a change of clothes – I was still wearing the sheer harem clothing. A horrible feeling entered my belly as I stared at my thighs through the clothing. The bruises were clearly visible.

Well, that left little choice; besides the cool cave temperatures, wearing the clothing Sven had left behind earlier would at least hide what was stolen from me. As I reached for the pants, I noticed the scars on my writs and forearm. I froze.

He had to have seen their twin on my other arm. Sven knew everything.

A small bubble of anger welled inside of me. He could insist all he wanted that he was nothing like Lotor, but he'd done little to prove otherwise. I angrily threw off the blanket and single-handedly slipped the brown pants on my legs. They were too big, but a fabric-made belt allowed me to tighten it to my waist. Taking a quick glance at both ends of the cave and listening for footfalls, I quickly grabbed the harem garb and pulled with all my might. It ripped easily in my arms. Getting it off was a wonderful relief.

Ignoring the cuts and scars on my torso, I was able to get the shirt over my neck, but was puzzled at what to do next. The shirtsleeves pooled at my sides, but I was barely able to get my good arm into the sleeve. I stared at my injured arm, covered by the blue fabric, wondering how I could get it through the sleeve.

That's when I noticed… goddesses, why hadn't I been paying closer attention? Footfalls in the caves. Someone was coming!

The only thing I could do was prop myself up against the wall and cover myself with the blanket. I stared into the darkness, trying hard to not let my fear show, but felt my hand ball into a tight fist under my shirt. My arm began to ache from the pressure, but I ignored it. Being discovered was far worse than pain in my arm.

Moments later, a figure emerged from the darkness. I looked up into the bearded face… and tried not to panic.

It wasn't Sven.

"Well, well… what have we here?" He seemed to whisper to himself. He looked me up and down, and I felt bile rise in the back of my throat. "Having some trouble getting into that shirt?"

I kept my mouth shut. Under the blanket, my hand searched for anything that I could use to defend myself. A piece of stone felt like it was ready to give way. I desperately picked at it while the man knelt down before me. "How long have you been in here?"

I tried to keep my breathing even as he looked me over again, a greedy look in his eyes. The stone finally broke lose in my hands, but it felt so small. It did little to help me, but at least I had something I could use to defend myself.

He tilted his head a bit and stared at my neck. "Oh, so you came from the Pit?" He pointed at my neck. "The prince usually throws his whores in the Robeast pit for food. Did you lose your voice when he last had you?"

Anger rose within me again. I clutched the rock tightly, but felt a strange mix of fear as I stared into his eyes. I knew there had to be few slaves left on Doom with their sanity intact, but this man appeared completely crazed. His eyes were wide, and the thin film of saliva around his lips was hard to ignore.

He suddenly leaned forward. I flinched and reached for his head with the stone. He grabbed my hand and stopped me. My attempt was pathetic and absolutely weak. He smiled at me, but it was more of a leer. "Now, now… can't have that, can we?"

Holding my wrist in a tight grip, he looked at my other arm and reached out a hand to my stomach. He grabbed my arm and pinned it to my body. The pain ripped through my body, and as I began to scream, he forcefully planted his mouth on mine, pushing me harder into the rock behind me.

Oh, no… No, no, please… I shook my head, breaking the kiss and spitting in his face. To my horror, he didn't look angry.

In fact, he looked downright sympathetic.

"It'll be a shame to take a body as pretty as this from the world." He took another look at my body, but there was a different look in his eyes this time. "So soft and so strong…" He looked me in the eye, sadness twined with madness. "I promise you I won't let any of this go to waste."

He wasn't looking at me with lust, or anything remotely like it. He studied my face for a moment, and then looked back down at my neck. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, then brought his face to my ear. "I'll make it quick. I promise."

His grip was like iron. Blue skin and amber eyes danced in my memory, an onslaught of terror fierce and real. I struggled, but I couldn't escape his grasp. I could feel him lick an area of my shoulder. My whimpers changed to cries, then screams. When his teeth sank into my shoulder, I screamed as loud as I could.

This was different from Lotor, though. I recognized it as soon as he pulled with my flesh in his teeth, and the scream of terror ripped through my throat until it hurt.

He wasn't trying to take me. He was trying to eat me.

I moved my torso as much as I could, trying to escape from under him. He pinned me with his weight and leaned up to look at me. My blood stained his mouth as he whispered soothingly to me, trying to calm me down.

Suddenly his head flew backward and a fist drove it to the side. His grip on me loosened immediately. I curled into a ball, overcome with horror, and gingerly held my injured arm. My shoulder throbbed painfully, a fresh sting clouding my thoughts as my heart beat furiously. When a foot landed by my head, I opened my eyes, startled.

Sven had thrown the man to the rocks in front of him, delivering a swift kick in the stomach before he had time to recover. He yelled furiously, but it was in his native tongue. "_You'd devour someone before they're dead? You _bastard! _Get out of here!_" he screamed, and the sound echoed painfully off the walls. His curse was emphasized with another kick in the stomach. The man scrambled to his feet and ran to another end of the cave, tripping once, before his footsteps faded. Furious panting became the only thing I could hear. Sven hadn't moved from his place in front of me, but I could tell every muscle was tense with his rage. When his boot moved from my sight, his breathing changed. He whispered in his own tongue again, and then knelt by my side. "Are you alright?"

My entire body was trembling. As he got closer to me, I curled even tighter into a ball on the floor. I started to hyperventilate. My stinging shoulder did little to take my mind off of what had happened. He hesitated for a moment before grabbing the blanket and holding it to my shoulder. The pain was almost unbearable.

Goddess, please… no more pain… just let me die here…

"This isn't good," he muttered to himself. "I need to get something to clean the wound."

I began to shake harder at the thought of being left alone to the mercies of the slaves. I knew Sven had never promised to leave my side, but at this point, he was the only person I could trust. For someone who was apparently trying to take care of me, he was doing a terrible job.

Anger mixed in with my terror. It was more than I could handle. My head began to pound again, and my trembling and heavy breathing only got worse.

"You need to calm down," he said quietly.

Listening to him only made me angrier. After a while, I could no longer control my body's actions. I felt myself dry heave once, twice… what little was in my stomach finally came out. Sven's hand gently lifted my head, but the effort was pointless. I continued to dry heave until my convulsions finally calmed to tears. I felt so spent, so exhausted, and so worthless of all the attempts he was making to save my life…

I was nothing more than a whore. Was it really my purpose in life to be food for creatures now that I had been ruined?

I wasn't sure when the tears ended, but when my body finally relaxed, I fainted.

* * *

Sometimes I have trouble deciding which is worse: my dreams, or reality.

My dreams were still terrible, filled with memories of Castle Doom and everything that took place inside; the elaborate decorations for the higher class, hiding the cruelty that took place in the lower levels; the exotic meals and presentations given to my father meant to assure that the alliance between the two planets was secure; the dreams of a secure world and profitable future for Pollux.

They were all lies. Doom knew nothing of peace.

Reality left me here, wounded and starving in the Pit, having been tortured in every way. I was left with a wild man who insisted on taking care of me, and the slaves that were so desperate and insane that they would use the most horrific means necessary to survive.

My dreams and reality were hell combined. Maybe I really had died and was suffering more torment in the afterlife.

Fitting, I suppose.

"I know you're awake."

I didn't feel like fighting him just then. I opened my eyes to reality, to Sven's dark eyes looking at me sympathetically. "You need to eat or you're going to starve out here."

I could smell the fresh food sitting next to me, but I hardly cared. I turned my head away from him.

"Maybe I'm not being clear," His voice was stern. "Stealing is punishable by death out here. If I don't get that plate and cup back to the kitchens before the guards have their patrol, a slave will be wrongly accused and killed."

Why did he even care? I closed my eyes again, angry that my stomach growled and betrayed my stubbornness. He was silent for a while, and I could almost feel him staring at me. He couldn't force me to eat if it wasn't my decision.

"Why do you have to be so…"

He had barely muttered the words before his hand gripped my chin and forced me to look at him. I could remember many similar moments with Lotor, and the sudden feeling of panic was overwhelming. I opened my eyes just as he forced my jaw open and poured some of the water into my mouth. I momentarily gagged, but could do little about it when his hand clamped over my mouth, the other plugging my nose so I couldn't breathe.

He honestly thought this was a way to get me to drink? I kept coughing, but the effect did little to help. More water poured down my throat until I was forced to drink it all in order to get him to release me. Once he did, I curled to the side and coughed painfully.

"_Why won't you try to survive_?" he finally yelled, grabbing my shoulder. His anger only served to fuel mine, and I reached out to grab his arm…

… only to notice that my arm was through the shirt sleeve. My _injured_ arm. The white cloth was stark against the dirty blue of the shirt. Everything I had in mind died on my tongue. I wasn't sure if he noticed, but in my silence he continued to speak, his voice much quieter. "You won't have much strength left if you don't eat."

The man was as stubborn as Bandor when he was a child. Unfortunately, in my weakness, my grasp on his arm slipped and I slowly lay back on the floor. His point was proven.

But if it would get him to shut up and leave me alone…

Whom was I kidding? Sven hadn't left me since he found me.

I had enough strength to recline, at least. I looked down at the plate and saw the simplest of foods - warm bread and a half-full goblet of water. The bread looked better than anything I had seen in months.

"You should eat quickly. The others will smell the food and wander in here."

Memories of the starving man made me look at Sven with fear. He looked back at me, but it was hard to tell what he was thinking. "He won't come back. Not for a while, anyway. But if he has reason to, I wouldn't be surprised if he does."

I looked at the food, feeling like I had just lost a major battle between the two of us. Sven was absolutely right – I was in no condition to defend myself, and if someone came in here, I'd be in the same position I was in earlier. I pushed on my elbow, trying to recline on the cave wall, and grimaced. The simple move made the wound in my shoulder throb. When I was finally reclining against the cave wall, I took a glance at it, seeing a large bandage peeking out from a tear in the collar.

So that was how he got my shirt on. He had to take it off in order to clean the bite.

That made my anger and frustration worse. But I had to submit. I looked at him, still squatting down next to me, and gestured with my eyes at the plate. "Can you at least tear me off some pieces?"

A little gleam came into his eyes, but he didn't smile. Saying nothing, he reached down and took the break, breaking off a piece and handing it to me. I turned away as I ate it, disgusted with how I marveled at its warmth. After a few bites, he handed me the goblet.

"I hate you, Sven." I whispered again. He had won this fight, and I felt like I was with Lotor all over again.

I wasn't looking at his face, but there was something in his answer that seemed to understand. I hated him more for it. "I know," he said simply, and handed me another piece of bread.


	4. The Target Of Anger

_Sometimes I don't mind_

_How hateful that I can be_

_Sometimes I don't try to make you happy_

_I don't know why I do the things I do to you…_

_

* * *

  
_

From the moment Sven returned from taking the dishes back to the kitchens he hadn't left my side. I couldn't tell what was worse, having him next to me, or the slaves beyond the cave walls. I didn't know why he was taking care of me; he hadn't given any indication why, nor had he shown any heroics that I expected to see from people with good intentions.

Then again, I had been on Doom long enough to know that any good intentions dissolved after time.

I had finally regained enough strength to comfortably draw my legs up to my chest as I reclined against the cave wall. Sven had his back to me, looking back and forth in the darkness to either side of us, his fingers slowly wigging as if he was anticipating something. The fresh flame by my side gave some light to his tall form, and I noticed, for the first time, that he never stood straight. The back of his shirt was stained with mud, but it was the few darker patches – blood, no doubt; I had seen it too many times before on slaves who tried to hide their wounds – that had my attention. For someone who insisted on taking care of me, he obviously didn't take better care of himself.

"What happened to you?" I asked, grimacing at the scratchy sound of my voice. I honestly didn't care, but the more that I remained silent, the more memories of Lotor flooded my mind. I'd rather be surrounded by my present hell than the one that resided in my mind.

Sven glanced back at me momentarily, but said nothing. He looked a little nervous, like it was a personal question. I felt better hitting that sore spot with him again.

I sighed. How disgusting that making people angry made me feel better about what happened to me.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, emotionless. "I figured it wouldn't be very polite. It was obvious enough by the clothing I found you in."

My jaw clenched as I stared at his back. I felt a mixture of anger, frustration and sadness. How dare he!

"You assume to know what happened to me?" I spat back, irritated at his indifference.

"I _know_ what happened to you." He turned back to face me, and the cold steel of his eyes almost felt like a challenge: _how many things can we throw at each other before we snap?_

Well, if he wanted a challenge, I was more than happy to oblige.

"You have no idea what happened to me. You think looking at wounds tells a story?"

"I could say the same thing to you. What would telling you my story do for you? Give you hope?"

I looked away, but felt myself grow angrier. "You and I both know the answer to that. The only way we'll have hope is if this Empire falls."

"And then what?" He squatted next to me now, and I resisted the scream within me to back away. "Just because he's dead doesn't mean followers won't rise up. Haven't you thought that the death of Zarkon and Lotor might be considered martyrdom to his loyal followers? There are very sick people in the world; perhaps we don't even know the depth of true evil in the universe."

Part of me knew he was right, while another tried not to show my terror at something – or someone – worse than Lotor. I knew there was a counterpoint, but it was so hard to sound convincing when he had single-handedly brought my fears back to the forefront of my mind. "_Where there is shadow, light is not far away_." The Polluxian Proverb was a small comfort in the silence of Lotor's harem.

He chuckled, but there was no trace of a smile on his face. "Let me ask you this: how can one believe such a thing when they wanted so desperately to die?"

I felt it within like the sun setting on the horizon. The little bit of hope that I had held on to was smashed to pieces. Why had I said those words? In my surroundings, in my condition, there was every reason to believe I wouldn't make it out. It was only a matter of time before someone found us alive and did the unimaginable.

Sven probably took my silence as his victory. I gathered enough nerve to glance at him, and was surprised when his eyes were sad. He looked away and stood, returning to his vigil in front of me. I half expected him to walk away, but he just stood his ground. In the condition he was in, I had no idea how he planned to defend us against another attack. He looked as weak as I felt. He was an absolute puzzle to me. Suddenly, I felt the courage to ask the question plaguing my mind since we had met.

"Why are you taking care of me?" I felt so small and vulnerable at the moment. Though he didn't stand straight, he seemed so imposing, amplifying the mountainous feel of the walls around us. I suddenly realized that I was terrified of his answer. Why did I ask the question in the first place?

His silence was unnerving, but he didn't look at me when he answered. "You remind me of someone I know… someone I once swore my life to."

He said nothing afterward. He didn't need to. I rested my head on my knees and turned away from him, not wanting him to feel my misery. There was very little left of me worth saving, it seemed.

"What's your name?" he whispered, and for the first time I heard warmth in his voice.

I considered my answer. There was so much danger in revealing my royal identity. Saving a princess had wonderful rewards in store if he returned me to Pollux. Part me of desperately wanted to believe that Sven wasn't like that. Why did he have to speak so warmly? Did he realize that made me want to trust him so desperately just so I wouldn't feel so alone? I considered yelling at him, but for the first time, that didn't feel like the right thing to do. I was so confused and hurt. Did he really save me because he thought I was someone else?

I felt a tear escaped my closed eyelids. Why was all of this happening?

"Romelle," I finally answered, and hoped that the thickness in my throat didn't betray the indifference I tried to convey.

"Romelle," he said quietly. He said it slowly, as if afraid his accent would make him pronounce it wrong. It wasn't his fault, but the way he said my name reminded me of Lotor on our first meeting, grinning pleasantly, before we met again in private, and the pronunciation was slow, deliberate, as he circled me.

_Princess Romelle… the name is yours, but the face… the face is _hers_._ He had stepped closer, the faint smell of alcohol on his breath. _Forgive me if her name happens to slip every now and then._

I felt my heart constrict, remembering the moments he had whispered another's name in my ear, pinning me painfully by any means.

_Allura_…

I buried my face in my knees, trying to forget the sound of his voice and the feel of his hands. I felt so confused. I wanted to be angry, or frustrated, or some other kind of form of aggression, but all I could feel was an intense sadness, and the overwhelming feeling of loneliness. Sven might have claimed loyalty, but how could I really trust him?

It was then I suddenly realized I wanted to trust him. I became sick and scared all at once. I needed to make him angry. I needed to do something to stop myself from feeling this way. One should never feel safe on Planet Doom, no matter whom they were with.

"What happened to this person? The one you swore your life to?"

Sven tensed for a moment, but I realized it was because of my question and not because someone was in the cave. His head hung forward a bit. "I'm not sure. I was hurt."

"So they're dead, for all you know."

He turned back at me, a fire in his eyes. I'd struck a nerve again, and I welcomed the small comfort it provided.

"She isn't dead," he said, and his voice held a conviction that surprised me. "None of them are. If they were, there would be more slaves than you can imagine here."

"But you haven't tried to escape and reunite with them. Your hope must have been lost long ago."

He faltered, and his confidence failed him as he looked defeated. I embraced the little feeling of victory and went in for the kill. "What kind of person gives up after swearing loyalty?"

The contained fury in his eyes momentarily scared me. When he quickly stood, I had moments to recognize his hands quivering with rage before he turned and walked down one of the tunnels in the cave. This time, I had won.

Resting my chin on my arms, I pushed away the guilt and wallowed in the hate and anger that festered within me. Sven had his own wounds, and I'll be damned if I was going to sit here alone in my pain.

The feeling was so short lived. When I could no longer hear his footsteps, I became very aware of the anger and pain fading into a miserable, overpowering loneliness. I tilted my chin and let my forehead rest on my arms. What had I become? When did preying on the scars of others become part of who I was?

The answer was so simple. And it was so sickening.

It happened when I was sold to Lotor. And in giving in to my anger, I was becoming the one thing I hated the most.

I was glad Sven had left. I was even glad he had fed me and given me strength. I leaned over and threw up on the cave floor, so lost in my anguish that I didn't realize

I was crying at the same time. _What had I become?_

* * *

It seemed like forever before Sven returned.

He had with him another plate of bread and a goblet of water. The bread was broken into little pieces. He set them on a rock nearby, and then turned without saying a word.

I knew I should have said something, perhaps apologize for my behavior earlier, but I found I was unable to. In the time he was gone, the guilt and loneliness had once again been replaced with the hate and indifference I was so fond of. Watching Sven walk away was more satisfying than it should have been. In a strange way, though, it gave me a rush of determination I hadn't felt since being in the harem. If Sven wasn't intent on escaping Doom, then I would show him that someone around here still had loyalty to what they held dear. It was probably easier said than done, but what did I have to lose?

For the first time in a long time, I greedily ate the food and drank all of the water, intent on gathering as much strength as possible. Tomorrow, I would try and do the unthinkable: break into the docking bay and escape Planet Doom.

If I died trying, so be it.

Whatever it took to get me away from Sven.


	5. The World Below The Surface

Morning and evening was very difficult to tell in the eternal darkness of Planet Doom, but I forced myself to sleep more so I could gather strength for my escape. Sven returned dutifully in the morning with some bread and water, and I ate with purpose. He watched me tear at the bread greedily, that unfamiliar gleam in his eye again, and he seemed satisfied when he turned and walked away with the empty dishes. He habitually hustled down the tunnel of the caves, so I knew I only had so much time to leave the caves and figure how far the Pit of Skulls was from the docking bay.

Once the faint light of the torch had faded, I pulled the blanket off of me and stood on shaking legs. I bent over and grabbed the torch wedged between the rocks, my only weapon in the darkness. I had no idea which direction I should go, but I knew that I couldn't follow Sven in case he found me.

I hesitantly made my way to the opposite end of the cave, wincing as my bare feet came in contact with cold rock and numerous other things I didn't want to think about. The rock underneath me echoed in the darkness. The light only went so far, and I knew I couldn't help myself if other slaves caught me.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all…

Something warm and soft gave out under my feet. Wincing, I stopped and looked down, bringing the flame closer to my feet.

Creature droppings covered the floor, mixed in with the rock. It seemed like water dampened the rocks around it, but I tried not to think of what else it could be. I felt a very feminine part of me recoil at the sight of the floor, but I knew I couldn't do anything about. Besides, the warmth was a wonderful balance to the cold rock, and in the corrupt grasp of Planet Doom, I would take every luxury I could attain.

I couldn't help shivering every time my foot hit cold rock, thinking of what covered my feet and the chill that went down my spine as I looked into the darkness. There was no breeze, no indication that I was getting closer to some kind of opening in the caves. I seemed to walk forever, wondering where I was going and if someone else was going to find me before I could get away.

My legs continued to shake, and just as I felt that I would have to stop and take a small respite, the flame of the torch flickered. A small breeze touched my face. My hope rose tremendously, and I forced myself to continue moving to where the breeze was coming from. Before long, I could hear noises coming from in front of me; rhythmic footsteps, whips, and voices alternating between labor and pain. Directly ahead was the thin line of daylight just behind a large rock.

I rested the torch on the rocks beside me and touched the boulder, wondering how much strength it would take for me to move it. I felt discouraged, knowing that my chances where very slim considering my arm. Bending over slightly, I braced my back against the rock and pushed with what little strength my legs had.

The rock didn't move.

I slumped against it, trying once more. The rock didn't budge, and I felt my legs give out from under me. I fell to the floor, feeling more exhausted than I had in days. I couldn't believe it; the perfect chance for me to try and escape, and I couldn't even move a rock out of the way. I probably couldn't have moved it if I were healthy anyway.

"Romelle!"

I stopped breathing. His voice was faint, far back into the caves where I had come from, but he seemed frantic.

"Romelle! Where are you?!"

I was well aware he knew these caves better than I did, and there was no reason to believe he had started running this way. Running footfalls echoed in the distance, steadily growing louder. I panicked and dug the burning end of the torch into the rocks, putting it out instantly. The darkness only made his echoing footsteps seem louder and I felt more panic and dread fill me.

What was going to happen once he found me?

I huddled into a small corner of the cave and covered my head with my arms, trying to ignore the noise of his footsteps by remembering the layout of the castle as much as I could. There was so little I was able to see when sitting on his bed, surrounded by ostentatious tapestries and filled with terror of what would come, but before Lotor would arrive to have his way with me, I would stare out the window of his bedroom and try to memorize my surroundings. The wide arc of his window overlooked a large courtyard with fountains and exotic plants, and mountains arose in the distance. There were whispers of what took place over those hills; that Zarkon's arena and slave pits were hidden there, away from the eyes of those loyal to Doom, and that his famed Robeast tournaments took place there. If my memory served correctly, the hanger was closer to the castle. That made my plan to escape that much more difficult. What exactly was I going to see if I tried to escape? Was there a path through the mountains I could take…?

Sven arrived moments later. The torch was still sitting by my side, and I suddenly felt extremely foolish. Of course I wasn't going to make it very far. Sven probably knew these caves better than anyone, and the little time it took him to find me proved it. I cowered over to the rock in vain, hoping he somehow wouldn't see me.

"Are you _crazy_?" he whispered furiously, grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the rock. "What do you think you're doing here?"

At least he was careful enough to not grab my injured arm. I whirled around and tried to yank my arm out of his grasp, but he was simply too strong. He lifted a leg and beat the fire next to me until it was snuffed out. He threw his own torch on top of the still-smoking wood and beat it until the flame died. We were thrown into darkness, and I was completely terrified.

"_What are you doing_?!" I screamed. Memories flooded my mind of cruel hands and vicious intent, and I struggled in his grasp. "_Let me go_!"

Instead he whirled me around, my back to his front, and pushed me to the floor, covering my small frame with his strength. I panicked, struggling to get out from under him as more nightmares attacked me. His dirty palm clapped over my mouth, his mouth right next to my ear.

_It only hurts unless you relax, my dear…_

Goddess… it was happening again. The one man I could trust was suddenly the demon I feared he was. I started shaking, tears falling out of my eyes. Was there no one I could rely on here?

"Don't make a sound," he whispered, his beard tickling my ear. I still whimpered, trying to make a cry for help. "Romelle, please. They'll find us. Don't move."

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to hear him clearly in the midst of my fear. He shifted suddenly, his torso over my head, pushing me further into the ground. He huddled closer, his hand still over my mouth. He kept insisting I remain quiet, but I couldn't help it. Too overwhelmed by the similarities, my tears began flowing freely from my closed eyes, remembering the fear when Lotor held me in his clutches. I tried so hard to focus, to shut my mind down like I had before Lotor threw me into the Pit, but I couldn't do it. It suddenly registered that there was something in Sven's voice that was akin to fear, and that his begging wasn't because he was trying to do something, but because he was actually afraid of being caught by those on the other side of the cave walls.

I stopped whimpering, and Sven's arms covered me tightly. His lips were still by my ear, and it took me a while to notice he was still whispering to me, but he was alternating between quiet murmurs and his own tongue. I couldn't stop shaking, the fear potent, but I could at least be quiet.

That's when I noticed that there were voices growing louder on the other side of the cave walls.

"It came from this side, sir."

My eyes shot open. My screaming had drawn attention to us, just as I had foolishly wanted.

"You there! What's going on back here?"

The voices were just behind the rock I had tried to move. I felt so stupid. I should have known my fear would get us caught.

I couldn't tell what was happening, but I knew some slaves had been pulled aside. There was a moment of scuffling, then a gagging noise. "I… I … he tried attacking me!" The voice belonged to a woman.

The guards only laughed. "Look at this. We whip them senseless when they'll just take care of each other for us." There was laughter, then a cry of pain. "If you're so ambitious, perhaps you should show your resiliency in the arena."

A man spoke back this time, "N-no my lord! I promise you it won't happen again!"

"What's the worth of a promise from a slave?" A second guard spoke this, and the laughter continued. There was the shot of a blaster, and the man screamed. "Would you look at that? Barely a laser burn and he cries like the newborns! Get back to work! You'd be too quick a kill in the arena. _The rest of you! Keep moving!_"

There was scrambling for a moment before the workers continued. The guards spoke amongst themselves for a moment, but gradually the voices faded. It wasn't long before the echoes of whips and screams continued, just as it had when I first entered this room.

Sven took a deep, shaking breath, and it hit me that he must have been as terrified as I was. He lifted his weight off of me, but kept his hand in place. "If I let you go, will you stay quiet?"

I nodded, and he removed his hand. He sat back on his haunches in front of me, but I curled into a ball, too overwhelmed by what had just happened and how lucky we were.

"What were you thinking?" he whispered again, staring at me intently. "You can't wander off in these caves. There are too many crazy people around here."

"Isn't that what you call yourself?" I responded, my voice weak but firm.

He released a small grunt, the barest of smiles on his face. He stared at me for a moment, then said thoughtfully, "You were trying to escape."

It wasn't a question, and I felt disgusted at being read so easily. When I glanced at him, though, the small grin was still in place, and a small twinkle lit his eye. "I can at least give you credit for your bravery." He glanced at the rock before us, staring at the dim light, then stood, offering me his hand. "Come on. We need to go back."

I looked at his hand for a moment. A defiant fire suddenly flared in me, and I refused his hand, standing on my own, albeit a little wobbly. The grin fell from his face, and he tightly gripped my hand. "There's no way you'll make it back in the darkness without me," he said matter-of-factly. He tugged me forward as he turned, leading me back into the twisting caverns I had just come from. Before long, we arrived back at the place I had started, but to my surprise, he kept moving onward.

"Where are you taking me?" I said, not afraid of the volume of my voice in this particular area.

"Where I meant to take you when I came for you earlier," he said, leaning down to pick up the torch. "It doesn't take a genius to know that you want to escape here as badly as the rest of us."

I frowned at his words. "The rest of us…?"

He continued to pull me along. "You'll see what I mean shortly."

Sven lead me quietly through the depths of the cave, walking with a surety that made me wonder just how long he had been here. Several minutes later we arrived at a small opening where faint light poured out into the darkness. Sven confidently turned the corner and brought me with him. Inside this small niche in the cave were several other slaves, a small gathering of men and women, each staring worriedly at the two of us until they recognized Sven. One of them turned to us with a scowl. "You said you weren't going to be long."

Sven ignored him, leading me into the small circle. I warily looked into the faces of the others, wondering why Sven had led us here. I gripped his hand a little tighter.

"That doesn't matter now," Sven answered, stopping before the group. "Did you bring the map?"

The group of eight reached into their clothing and pulled out folded pieces of paper. Kneeling to the floor, they each placed the paper together like a puzzle. The image was the palace and courtyard of Doom, along with the arena and slave barracks, noted with scribbles of cave routs and numbers. I didn't know what the numbers meant, but the image before me was obvious; the people in this room had spent many hours detailing the world above the caves.

Sven released my hand and knelt to the map, pointing at a random location. "We're going to want to meet here," he said to the group. "The guards have a shift change, but it's not for very long. If we can split up and move between here and here, we might be able to meet at the hanger at the same time."

"But when is the shift change?" One of the women pointed at the numbers, and I realized that was an account of time between the changing of the guard. "This could be an incident where one group might have to wait for the other to arrive."

Sven sighed. "I still haven't been able to figure that out."

The man who had spoken to us when we first entered scoffed. "You haven't been able to… Sven, you've had a week!"

"I've had an… unexpected addition." He jerked a thumb in my direction. "This is Romelle. I found her in the Pit."

The entire group turned to me, and I nervously met their gazes. "You survived the fall?"

"She's survived far worse," Sven rose next to me. "Seeing how she's the only person who's survived being in the Pit, I think that's reason alone for her to come with us."

Another slave shook her head. "That's ten people, Sven. You said there was better safety in smaller numbers."

"Which is why we're splitting up." He replied. "If a smaller number goes first and waits for the second set, each with a specific purpose, we can meet in one of the cruisers and make it out of here."

Tension was almost visible amongst the other slaves. They all looked at each other worriedly, shifting their feet. It was obvious that a few of them never believed this plan would have worked in the first place.

Sven looked at a man. "Don't forget you're the one who came to me, Delsa."

Delsa, his fingers already buried in his beard, gripped the hairs in annoyance. "We came to you because you know this place better than any of us. We thought you would have led us out of here by now."

"If I had done that, we all would be dead. The more we learn about what the Drules do, the more likely we'll have a chance of escape."

"Meanwhile, the rest of us wonder if we'll have a chance to even try." Delsa stepped forward, clearly irritated at the length of time it had taken for this plan to take place. "Sven, only three of us are left from the original group. How many more people will have to die before we attempt this?"

"Those people died trying to gain information. They knew the risks when they agreed to this."

Delsa scowled. "I doubt they planned on dying here."

Sven and Delsa glared at each other, and it was obvious that they were a heartbeat away from tackling the other to the ground. "They knew what they were getting into," Sven growled again, anger fully evident. "If they attained this information so that we can get out of here, then their deaths were not in vain."

Delsa opened his mouth to say more, but one of the other slaves spoke up. "He's right, Delsa," she snapped. "They knew there was a rebellion on the horizon. There had to be casualties."

Delsa never broke his iron stare. "If we have all the information we need, then I see no reason why we can't proceed now."

I could almost feel Sven's anger radiating off of him. "Because we have one more guard shift we need to note. If we don't know all of them by heart, then what's the point of trying to escape? What if you're caught?"

"_One_ shift is going to change _everything_?"

"_Ja_!" Sven growled. "If you don't have everything coordinated, then there's no point in trying to go through with this plan!"

"I'd just like to understand what makes you think you're the one leading this. _We_ came to _you_. It's _our_ decision when we leave."

Sven's jaw clenched tightly, the knuckles of his fists white as I'd ever seen them. He slowly looked at every person in the small room, and I realized, just by their pleading expressions, how desperate they were to get out of here. I sympathized; I would have made a fatal mistake if Sven hadn't found me earlier. I looked to him, waiting for his reaction.

He looked down over the map, taking a deep breath. Never taking his eyes off the drawing, he quietly stated, "I'm here to help you. But if we're just going to argue about who is leading this escape, then I suppose my part in this is over."

"We've been waiting for months, Sven," another slave said, wringing her hands together. "We don't know how much longer we can wait."

"Fine." Sven grabbed my hand and gently nudged me back to the entrance of the niche. As he walked, he said to the group, "I would greatly advise you to not take action yet. Give me two days, and I'll give you more information."

Silence met his warning. As he guided me back to the blanket and the cold rock floor, I noticed the frustration and pain in his eyes. His hand still held mind gently, but I could tell it took a great effort.

"How long have you been planning this?" I asked quietly, afraid to bring up the topic lest I ignite his anger again.

He took a deep breath. "Delsa and a group of slaves found me four months ago and asked if I could help them figure out a way to escape. They expected something quick. His wife was in the group." He grew silent. "She was killed in the arena three weeks later. He's been desperate to leave ever since."

"But… to be so irrational?"

Sven glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, amusement evident. "That's a strange question, coming from you."

I deserved that one. I looked down in embarrassment, and then realized that we were still holding hands, though we were walking side-by-side. I was nervous for a moment, until something he said earlier made me look at him curiously. "Am I really the only one who's survived the Pit?"

Sven stared ahead, and a peculiar darkness settled in his eyes. "_Ja._"

I realized in that moment, walking beside him in the darkness of the cave, studying his face as the fire reflected it, that I trusted him. The one man who had tried to take care of me was going to include me in a group of slaves trying to escape, no questions asked. It was a slaying of a personal demon, a small victory he had attained in the hell he lived in.

I sighed miserably. I trusted him. I was so terrified to admit that to myself. I promised that I would never trust anyone so easily again, but I owed this man my life. He had saved me with no reason to. _You remind me of someone I know… someone I once swore my life to. _He could have left me for dead when he realized I wasn't her. He could have left me to the mercy of the starving man, but he came to my rescue. Taking care of me healed for him.

There was very little that could be done to heal me, if anything at all.

"I know you haven't been sleeping," he said quietly when we returned to what I could only assume was his resting place in the caves. "But you should try to get as much as you can now. Exhaustion won't help you here."

Nothing could. Even the trust for him, how little it was, couldn't be enough. He left to find some bread and water. The moment his footfalls were gone, I turned to my side and buried my face in the blanket, angry with myself for trusting him. It was absolutely pointless to do so. His protective nature was only a façade. He would escape and leave me here. Or perhaps if he escaped, he would shoot me into space and let me die painlessly. At this point, with as broken as I felt, perhaps the only thing I could trust was death.

Tears squeezed past my closed eyes again. I was miserable and angry, confused and hurt. And in my fear of wanting to trust someone, all I wanted to trust was _death_.

What had I become?


	6. The Horrific Grasp of Korrinoth

My apologies for the delay with this chapter. Many very personal things happened between posting the last chapter and writing this one. I hope this makes up for it.

* * *

I awoke, but I felt so exhausted I wondered if I had slept at all.

Darkness greeted me when I opened my eyes, and it was with a sharp pang of fear that I realized the torch had never been lit. It must have burnt out at some point in the night. Sven could usually be relied upon to have it lit before I woke up…

I scoffed and closed my eyes. My constant reliance on him disgusted me. Reason tried to explain that he was the only one I could trust, that in the length of time he had found me in the Pit, he had done nothing but tend to my wounds. Despair said that it was only a matter of time before he did whatever he planned. Experience had taught me not to trust people on this planet, thus he had yet to fully earn mine.

The thought made me sigh, the ache in my ribs finally ebbing away. My injuries from the fall into the Pit seemed like they might be healing, with the exception of my arm. My shoulder, patiently observed by Sven before I slept, would ache for a while longer. The bump in my head was almost completely gone. Time was impossible to tell in the darkness of the cave; had I been here for days? Weeks?

Dread filled my stomach. Hours?

I felt very lethargic at the thought. I curled to my side, cradling my bad arm so I could rest comfortably. Hours spent in the caves were far preferable to being anywhere near Lotor again. The thought of him made me curl tighter, as if doing so would protect me from his memory. I felt my mind and body go numb, the defense mechanism kicking in. Being subject to Lotor's brutality taught me many different ways of mentally defending myself. I tried to cower deep within, to hide in the protective darkness.

_You couldn't stop him from breaking you._

The betraying thought always worked. My body went limp, reality sinking in once again. Lotor dealt with me like a great conquest until the day he realized that he had broken my spirit. I no longer struggled, cried out, or tried to stop him.

_You realize what you are now, don't you? Here falls the last great hope of Pollux._

Tears fell from my eyes, memories of trying to take my life so many times, the punishments he handed out when I was caught in the act, his teeth and claws…

Darkness is no longer a friend. As I slowly stood, part of my mind screamed that staying in the caves was my best chance for survival. I ignored the voice. I needed air or I would panic, and the last thing I needed was distraction from a panic attack. Useless. A handicap; my handicap, if I wasn't too careful.

It took me a while, but I was able to make my way through the cave. The temperature dropped slightly with the breeze, and my pathway slowly began to fill with light. Voices echoed through the small cavern, and none of them seemed remotely pleasant.

"Please! I beg you!"

I froze.

"My lord! Leave them out of this! _Please_!"

The voices belonged to those from the caves. The people Sven had planned on escaping with.

I moved closer to the entrance. The dim light in the skies made it hard to see for a moment, but when I could, I was mere feet away from the massive form of a Robeast.

I jumped back, alarmed. What was wrong with me? I hadn't been so close to the outside since I was thrown into the Pit! _Anyone_ could be out there… Amber eyes flashed in my mind. I instantly recoiled and began to walk back into the cavern I came from, feeling my way with my hands before I turned—

I had only a moment to identify him. Sven's hand clamped over my mouth, his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me toward him. "Quiet!" he whispered, trying to mute my scream as much as possible. "It's just me. I knew you'd scream if I startled you; I didn't want to give us away."

Anxiety welled inside of me from behind held so tightly, but my silence was enough to persuade him to let me go. I turned and glared at him. "What are you doing out here?" I whispered furiously.

"I was wondering that myself," he retorted, gesturing for me to follow him back into the darkness of the cave. I felt guilty at how eager I was to get away when friends were on the other side of the cave walls. I glanced back as their screams became quieter, then turned to Sven.

"We were supposed to meet, but nobody was there." His voice was bitter, and I watched as his face became disgusted. "They tried to escape."

Despite the situation, I froze. "Without us?"

"Wouldn't you, if you became desperate enough?" The question was rhetorical. The knowing look in his eye lasted only a moment. "You heard how upset Delsa and the others were. I _knew_ they were going to act. I just…" He shook his head. "I wish they had given me more time."

He looked in the direction that Delsa and the others were, his eyes cold. His lips were set in a thin line, and the slump of his shoulders seemed somehow painful. It was at that moment, though I'm not sure how, that I knew the fate of the others.

"They're going to die, aren't they?"

His hand, once limp on the cave wall, clenched into a fist at his side. "The penalty for stealing from the kitchens is death." The look he gave me was haunted. "What will happen to them will make that feel like imprisonment."

I could taste bile in my throat. Doom seemed to never tire of creating new ways to torture. "The arena?"

His eyes were downcast, but the intensity only grew. "They should be so lucky."

_Lucky?_ "Sven, what—"

"I have to watch. There's the slightest chance that one of them could do something that causes enough commotion that we might be able to… it's a long shot, but… if they're rowdy enough, there might be a call for backup…" He kept his eyes down. He lifted his arm; only now did I realize he was carrying something the entire time. "Hide yourself in this. Your hair is lighter, easy to recognize. I'll be able to blend in with the rocks." The look in his eyes was unlike any I'd seen previously. "No matter what happens, follow my lead."

I grabbed the cloak with a shaking hand. The fact that Sven could barely put a sentence together worried me more than I wanted to admit. I'd never seen him this flustered before. Silently, we moved through parts of the caves I hadn't seen before. I kept as close to him as I was comfortable and after a while we finally reached more light. The opening wasn't very clear, but it was enough to see what was happening while not being seen by the guards.

"Over here," Sven whispered, making enough room for me to stand right next to him. The clean Doom air was a great release from the dank smell of the caves, but that small pleasure was extinguished in light of what I could finally see.

Sven had let us in position over the small valley where slaves were working on more buildings for Zarkon. Guards and moving shapes surrounded us, but it was the center of the hollow that caught my attention.

A lump formed in my throat. The guards had made it that way. Delsa and the other seven slaves where tied individually to boulders lined in a row. There was only a small group of guards that flanked them, but it was enough to intimidate the surrounding workers. Other soldiers looked on with a smile. The robeast I had seen earlier stood to the left of Delsa, chained to the ground, and its glinting eyes seemed to be entranced by—

I stifled a gasp. In the very middle of the makeshift stage, six children were tied together. Each crying loudly and at least two of them seemed injured.

"There are children here?" I whispered, looking at Sven with absolute horror. Men and women being exposed to Zarkon's cruelty was one thing; who would be so evil to expose children to the same treatment?

"They'll take anyone from a planet," Sven answered coldly, never looking away. "Children don't last long here. That's why you hardly see any."

Bile rose in my throat. I looked back to the group. The children looked as though they couldn't be older than ten, with the youngest probably around five.

"Don't they usually send the small ones straight to the robeasts?" A guard near us asked, gesturing with his head to the group below.

The other smiled. "They just caught them. We didn't know we had a few running about. Apparently, the slaves have been protecting them."

The first scoffed and went on his way. He chuckled and muttered something to himself, but I was too caught on what was said to hear anything else. I suddenly had tunnel vision, staring at those children with maternal instinct. I risked a glance at Sven, who seemed rooted to the spot. His eyes were glassy, his face set in stone.

"There's nothing we can do, is there?"

He didn't answer, but the silence was answer enough. Helpless, I forced myself to stay composed and looked back to the valley, where the guards were circling Delsa and the others. With the noise of workers going on around us, it was hard to hear what was said. I dreaded the answer, but all the same… "What are they saying?"

"We'll know in a moment," he said back. He sounded as powerless as I felt.

"Slaves! We've got a special show for you!" A guard stood and walked dramatically to the edge of their self-made clearing, lifting his arms in the air to punctuate his words. The slaves around us, if possible, looked more ragged at the sound of his voice. "It seems we've found a few of you who were planning some kind of elaborate escape plan!" It was startling easy to see the gleam of his teeth when he smiled. "You _idiots_! Will you ever understand just where exactly you are? _Shut up!_" The children were still crying from their spot behind the guard. He turned to them and gestured back to the crowd. "Do you see what's at stake here? You people are emotionally attached to these small ones, aren't you?" He walked toward them with heavy steps. "Don't you _see _what type of _trouble _you _cause for_ _yourselves_?" He walked past the children and pointed a gun at the slaves. "Who's children are these? They're yours, aren't they? Or some of them, at least?"

The woman in front of him was audibly crying. Her voice was broken with the force of her sobs. "Please… please my lord, I beg you…"

"Beg?" He turned back to the crowd. "She _begs_! Whom do you beg for?"

"My babies—"

"Your what?"

"M-my… my boys…"

"Your _boys_! And you! You cry for your children as well, don't you?"

The women he spoke to never took her face away from her children. Her resiliency filled me with wonder. Despite her spirit, tears fell down her cheeks in waves.

"Do you think your silence fills you with strength? All of your fates were decided the moment you tried to escape." He pointed to the workers surrounding them. "These other slaves know what happens when you try to escape without permission. How kind of you to offer yourselves as a reminder!"

The guard turned to the robeast and aimed his gun at the chains holding it to the ground. It let out a mighty roar and waited, its eyes still glued to the group of children tied together.

"You know what your food looks like. Feast!"

Screams surrounded the valley. Delsa and the others struggled against their restraints, crying out to the guard while the robeast advanced on their children. The guards laughed mockingly, the slaves continued working, the robeast reached out to the group… all six fitted in its large hand… not all of them would have the mercy of dying instantly… it raised them to its jaws…

I fell to the cave floor and vomited. Sven reached out immediately and all but carried me out of the opening, but I was so disoriented I could barely tell what was happening. So much noise echoed in the tunnel, and I begged my mind not to identify a single sound. Before I knew it, we were back at my sleeping place, and he allowed me to fall to my knees. My hands hit the cave floor. Tears fell from my eyes, but I wasn't sobbing. Horror swept through me anew, the only rival being the months I was with Lotor.

There was a thud above my head. Sven was pounding his hands against the cave wall. "Stupid!" I heard him mutter, his eyes filled with rage. "So… damn… _stupid_! Two days… all I needed was two days!" He lifted his hands to his hair and took a few steps away from me, muttering in his own language.

I struggled to fight the memories of their screams, trying to focus instead on the cave floor and the rocks covering it. There was no way the barbarity of the situation would leave us anytime soon. I focused for an unknown amount of time… anything to remember where I was and what I had just witnessed. There was no way the slaves would still be alive. Sven's adamant reaction spoke volumes to their fate.

"We can't leave, can we?" The question left me before I could really think about what I was saying. The reality of prolonged hiding, fear and Lotor's men at every turn was unbearable.

"We leave tomorrow."

I blinked. "Are… are you crazy? Did you just see what happened—"

"The guards will be convinced that no one will try to leave so quickly. Everything they did… it was staged, intentionally, so that others would fear. They don't expect anything to happen so soon." He turned to me, and the fervor in his eyes blazed. "It's the perfect time. Early. We'll leave then."


	7. The Problem With Trust

"You can't be serious," I said, standing to my feet on wobbly legs. "Sven, those slaves… those murderers—"

"If you think about it, you should have expected something like that to happen," he said, gesturing with one hand as if it held all the answers. "You've seen how they treat the slaves here. Why would they—"

His words struck a dangerous chord with me. I stood and slapped his hand away, staring angrily at his surprised face. I spoke slowly through gritted teeth, "Don't you _dare _talk to me about what happens here. You have _no idea_ what I've been through."

His eyes blazed. "You're not as secretive as you think you are. You can wallow in your misery all you want, but you can't hide your scars. None of us can…"

I know he said something more; his lips were still moving, but I couldn't hear him over the fury that pounded in my ears. He wanted to talk about scars? He _dares_ talk to me about pain? _Wallow…_?

"Wallow in misery?" I was surprised at how quiet my voice was. It caught him off guard. "Do you honestly believe that's what I've been doing? You're certainly sure of yourself if you think you can make such an accusation. What do you believe _you're_ doing?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. "You can't talk to me about scars when you have enough of your own. I've seen glimpses of your back. Your shirt is filled with bloody patches. What makes you think you're physically able to escape from here? Is that why you've been here so long?"

I felt triumphant. Very calmly, I looked down at the fist he had punched the cave wall with. The knuckles were so white the small cuts didn't even bleed. "Oh, look. I've made you angry." I looked at his face. "Who's wallowing in misery now?"

The atmosphere was absolutely frigid. Part of me felt horrible for the things I was saying, but another side of me claimed victory. It was becoming joyous the more I stared at his shaking form and his widening eyes. His breathing became louder, heaving pants that revealed just how deeply I had hurt him. His upper lip curled into a sneer. He looked every bit like the wild man he claimed he was.

Lotor.

Suddenly, all victory evaporated in the realization that I had never seen Sven this angry. He looked ready to attack. Involuntarily, I took a step back. The sneer he was giving me widened until his mouth was opened. When he spoke, his accent was thick and full of his barely contained rage. "I might not be able to do a lot, but what I am physically able to do, I've done. Delsa and the others might have needed to write down the shifts of the guards; I have them here, in my head. I've left you alone because I've been memorizing them for the sake of the others. Did you think what you saw was brutal?" He gave a twisted sort of laugh. "There's a reason they call me the wild man. I have seen more from this planet than anyone should ever have to." He seemed to calm just slightly, but his body was still taut. "I've seen more death and more suffering than anyone should ever have to see in their own lifetime. _Now_ do you understand why I want you to survive? You might be the only person I can say I saved on this planet, and I'll be damned if I leave you behind."

"So you're taking me with you as a sort of personal victory?"

The words were out of my mouth before I could believe I was saying them. I was still reeling over the brutality I had seen earlier, and Sven's words, though convincing, left me oddly angrier than I was before. I could feel that heat swell within me again, and I prepared myself for his words… and as I stared at him, I realized they weren't coming.

Not how I thought they would be, anyway.

"Maybe so," he said, so angry his words were whispers. "What I do know for sure is that there are people out there on the surface of this planet who would do anything they could to be in your shoes right now. They would give anything – and I mean _anything_ – to be able to have the chance you have now. Yet you don't consider yourself a lucky one." His voice was still edgy, but he sounded somewhat incredulous. "Is what happened to you really so terrible that you can't imagine fighting for your own life anymore? Don't you have…" He gritted his teeth, and his voice rose to the volume I was anticipating earlier. "Don't you have anything worth living for? Is there nothing you can imagine that you want to go back to?"

As much as I wanted to stay angry at him, I felt my walls starting to crumble. Sven was picking at a very safe place within me, and if he didn't stop, he could start something very difficult for me to go through. My thoughts flooded to Bandor and Pollux, and the Doom soldiers who no doubt walked through the palace with their heads held high. There was very little that said he could still be alive, but I didn't know for sure…

"Stop it," I whispered, my voice sounding weak.

The anger on his face vanished for a moment. He knew what he was doing to me. "You do have a home, don't you? Isn't it worth going back to? Don't you want to keep your family from being sold as slaves, too?"

Oh, if only he knew… tears filled my eyes again, and a tremendous vulnerability overcame my senses. I was no longer angry. "Please stop it."

"Take a moment, Romelle," he stepped closer to me, his eyes suddenly pleading. "Take a moment and think about all of your friends and their families, the people you grew up with. You would do anything in your power to stop them from being like Delsa, wouldn't you? If you knew you could do something?"

"Sven…" There was a warning in my voice.

"Think of how many you could inspire from your own planet if you came back alive, that there were slaves who were willing to fight back against Zarkon and his followers. There would be so many people here who would now have hope! If we don't do it now, these people won't ever have that. They'll truly feel like they've lost—"

"_Everything_!" I shouted. The dam was broken. Tears fell from my eyes. I couldn't take his words anymore. I was a tornadic combination of scared, hurt, and overwhelmed with a terrible, terrible sadness that I couldn't explain. "_I've. Lost. Everything_!" Through the haze of tears I saw his eyes widen. He froze in his advancement. "There is _nothing _I would rather do than wish for death. I've lost my _entire_ world, Sven. My family, my friends… they're already _gone._" I looked back at him, mentally pleading he not ask me to elaborate on anything. "I have _nothing_ to go back to."

I don't know why I expected him to be angry, but I did. Maybe I was so used to being subdued by Lotor that rage was the only reaction I was familiar with. I expected him to glare at me and walk away from me, perhaps to go ahead and attempt this crazy escape plan of his. His eyes were still wide, slowly darting back and forth as he looked at me, then the cave wall and floors… and from one moment to the next, everything seemed to change. Slowly, starting with my feet, he took his time and looked at me carefully, and when he met my eyes, he no longer seemed angry. In fact, there was very little to suggest he'd been pleading with me seconds ago. The entire thing made me incredibly uncomfortable. I slightly squirmed.

"Why won't you trust me?" Sven whispered, so quiet I could barely hear him. It was just a simple question. There was no expectation, almost no emotion at all.

Against my better judgment, I found myself answering him honestly. "Because I can't."

I closed my eyes, ashamed of how much I had told him with so little. I wanted to turn away and do anything I could to get away from him and from this horrible world. I needed to get away from how I felt. It seemed like every wound was his to see. I felt so… exposed.

My eyes opened at the sound of shifting rock. I knew he was coming closer, but something told me that he wasn't going to hurt me. Something told me that he was going to try and help me.

I hated that feeling. It had lied to me so many times.

It was probably that hate that stopped me from looking him in the eye when he finally stopped in front of me. He didn't make any motion at all to touch me. He just simply stood in front of me, his breathing as quiet as I've ever heard it. I felt cornered despite having nothing at my back.

"I'll help you find a new world," he spoke, his voice quiet and gentle. "I'll help you find a new place to call home. I won't allow you to be the last of your kind." He paused momentarily, and I wondered if he was waiting for me to answer him. "This is what I plan to do," he continued. "When we get out of Doom's atmosphere, I was going to set a course for the planet I called home, with the friends who helped me get there." He was quiet a moment. "I have some very valuable information that could help them. You see, my friends… they are the Voltron Force."

My blood ran cold. Of all of the things I had thought he was going to say... I turned and looked at him. He seemed surprised that I wasn't happy. "You're taking me to Arus," I stated.

"Yes."

Years of loathing welled in me. "I hate Arus."

He blinked at me. "You hate… why do you hate Arus?"

A very small part of me wanted to be upset that he hadn't realized who I was yet. I shoved that part away in light of what he was really saying. "My home world has been the rival of Arus for a century."

He looked confused. If his home world was Arus, surely he knew of the loathing our worlds had for each other. Maybe this was why I couldn't stand him.

His eyebrow twitched. "Being a prisoner in the house of Arus would be a far better fate than a slave in the pits of Doom, don't you think?"

"They're mutually revolting."

His expression was unreadable. He looked as if the answer would come to him if he stared at me long enough. "I know you hate them, but Voltron might be the only hope the universe has."

"I guess you'll just have to forgive me if I don't feel the same way." Hope for the universe it might be, but I couldn't deny the bitterness that bubbled in me at the mention of Voltron. Avok was still dead. Sven didn't need to know that.

"That's fine," he said evenly. "Let me strike a deal with you; we escape tomorrow, I take you to Arus so I can give all information I can to the Voltron Force, then I'll take you back to your world personally."

He didn't honestly think I forgot that he swore to protect the princess, did he? "I am _not_ a conquest," I spat, and I was surprised at the strength in my voice.

"I never intended for you to be," he said, lifting both eyebrows this time. "I did say I'd take you back home, didn't I? And I even promise you this," he paused, but to his credit, he didn't move any closer. "If there is nothing left of your world, I'll help you find another place to live. A place that isn't Arus. Maybe even some place that they can't find you."

The proposition sounded promising, but… "What about you?"

"I'll go back to Arus and continue fighting. After that… we'll see."

I didn't like the idea of him knowing where I was at all times, but I also saw that I didn't have much of a choice. The fall of the Empire was reliant on freeing the slaves, and if there was ever going to be any hope for the people out there, for the other harem girls I had spent so many months with, neither of us really had a choice. We both had to escape.

I would be trading one version of hell for the next.

I took a deep breath and sold my soul to fate. "It's a deal."


	8. The World Above The Caves

True to his word, we set out early the next day, though if it was truly the "next day" or hours later, I'm not sure. Time is irrelevant on Doom, and the longer you stay the less aware you are that it passes. Though he left me to sleep in anticipation for the stress the escape would bring, I hardly let my eyes close. There are too many little noises amplified in the silence of the caves, and every shadow made me curious of what could be casting it, or who could be behind it. If I was still enough, I could hear the working slaves just beyond the wall of rocks. All I could think of was children. Sleep has escaped me for a long while here. I've learned to survive on very little.

If Sven noticed when he came to get me, he said nothing. He handed me the cloak I wore seemingly hours ago, a lit torch in the other hand. He knelt to the ground and started tracing patterns in the dirt.

"There are several things we must be clear on before we can do this," he said, drawing a simple image of what I eventually recognized as Castle Doom and the hanger nearby. "Every location on the surface has guards taking shifts except for Haggar's hut, which seems to be protected by magic." He drew more shapes. "Past the river and the small mountain range, there are seven work zones, four of them above us. We're here, in the Pit of Skulls." He took his finger out of the dirt and pointed to the work zones. "Above the dungeons and the flatlands are the slave barracks, which is the one thing closest to the hanger." He looked at his hand-drawn map, seemingly thinking aloud. "Obviously the shortest way to a destination is a straight line, but we would be walking in open and dangerous territory if we were to do so."

"So instead you plan on maneuvering your way around highly guarded areas?" The sarcasm was fully intended. The outline he was giving me seemed perilous.

"We don't have much of a choice," he bit back, already irritable. "If we're caught in the flatlands, we'll be sent to one of two locations that will bring us our deaths – the feeding grounds, or the arena." He drew both for a visual example. "We have to use the caves and the work zones to our advantage. The closest zone we'll be able to get to thanks to the caves. That has a small pathway that will take us to the barracks. It's far more guarded in the interior, but the roof has guards that change shifts every hour. If we leave soon enough, we'll be able to make it past the barracks and into the range. All that will be left is the river and the path to the hanger."

His voice had dipped in tone. "You make it seem as though the river is the hard part."

He sighed. "It is. Guards regularly check the stream in case slaves make it through the range." He turned to look at me. "It's the quietest part of the planet. Any little noise could echo loudly and give off our location. Do you know how to swim?"

"Well enough."

The answer was no and he knew it. He looked away. I'd never seen such a calculating expression.

"I've swam in pools large enough. I don't know how long I can stay afloat, though," I'm not sure what made me say it, but it seemed like he needed the small reassurance.

He nodded slightly. "That's good enough. That cloak should be large enough to hide us both if you need to get on my back."

That wasn't comforting one bit. I had seen the wounds he tried to hide. Climbing on his back if I couldn't swim seemed like a death sentence.

"Do you have anything to tie your hair with?"

I blinked at him. "What?"

"Your hair. I was thinking of rubbing the grime from the caves into it to hide the color, but it might wash out."

I blanched. "You don't honestly think I can do anything with my hair when my arm is broken, do you?"

"I didn't think so." His irritation was deepening. Good. This plan was becoming more and more stupid as he told it. "Kneel down."

_Get down or I will force you._

I froze. "No."

Sven stood. "We're running out of time. I grabbed some material to try and tie your hair up. I _know_ you can't do it alone. Get down so I can help you."

The material he pulled out of his pocket was dark and worn, but all I saw was a deceptively soft silk-like material, deep maroon in color. As I slowly knelt to try and hide my shaking legs, he came behind me and gathered my wilted hair into his hands. I felt the rough material glide against my skin.

_I hope you drank all of the fluids given to you earlier. Haggar created something special just for you. The flaccidity isn't too uncomfortable, is it? We can't have you giving unnecessary bites. That would be… very cruel. After all, that's _my_ job. Don't worry. You'll be able to move your face again in several hours. I'm just not sure I'll be done with you yet._

I tried to keep my breathing calm. Sven was gently gathering hair into his hands, molding it into a shape I couldn't see. He couldn't be finished fast enough. I tried to think of _anything _other than the memories flashing in my mind. I heard a snap of fabric. I closed my eyes tight and felt tears fall.

"That'll do for now. The first thing we have to do when we get out of the river is find something to dirty it up again. If we get to the other side quickly enough, we should be able to find dirt. The river isn't exactly clean itself."

I pulled the hood over my head as a distraction from wiping the tears from my face. He crouched back down and looked at me. "Perfect."

_Perfect._

"As long as you follow closely behind me and move when I do, we should be fine until we get to the hanger. After that… unfortunately, we'll have to wait."

I took a breath to settle my emotions. "That's what you were going to work on the next two days, right? The changing of the guard at the hanger?"

He stood and brushed away his drawings with his boot. "That was the idea. If we can stay hidden long enough, we might be able to make it inside the easy way."

There was an easy way? "Dare I ask?"

"We crawl through the air vents, find a small vessel set for take-off, ambush the crew and set it for an out-of-routine flight path, and sneak out to Arus."

... he thought that was _easy_? "You must be joking."

"There are a few changes here and there, but it's similar to something I did once." He stood and adjusted his own cloak over his face. I could barely see his eyes with his dark hair covering them. "Just pray it doesn't become the hard way."

I stood and watched him turn to the back end of the caves. "Are you going to tell me what that is, or will I be left in suspense?"

"Commandeer an attack ship and fight our way out."

I began to follow him, but I couldn't feel my steps. My mind was in a stunned haze. It became very clear how the plan was perfectly fit for a small group of people. How the death of a few slaves was going to make this easier seemed absolutely ridiculous.

"Just remember," he said quietly once we were at the cave entrance, burying the lit end of the torch into the mud at our feet. "Do everything I say and try not to make a sound."

I must have seemed scared, for he looked at me with sympathy for a moment. "Do you trust me, Romelle?"

I recalled the memories I had earlier and turned my grimace into a scowl. "You're not giving me much of a choice."

"You can follow me and potentially die, or you can stay here and either be eaten or caught. Unless we succeed, you'll die anyway. What'll it be?"

I blinked at him in surprise. He'd never spoken so pessimistically before, at least not in a way where death seemed so… imminent. I tried to stand a little taller. "I thought you were supposed to be the great mind behind our freedom."

"I thought you welcomed death."

I spoke with a conviction I hope took him by surprise. "Every day."

He scowled. "I won't allow it."

"I thought you said I wasn't a conquest."

"We made a deal."

Damn him. I should have told him that I wasn't raised to keep my word, or that in reality I was free to do whatever I wanted whenever I felt like it. Fear stayed my mouth, however, and I merely stared back. I refused to tell him that deep down I _did_ want to leave, to escape this hellish prison that had enslaved me for so long. I didn't know how to tell him that Arus, and then Pollux, might be so much worse, or how lying to Lotor had gotten me the worst of punishment.

Without a word, I stood by his side, waiting for him to take the lead and guide me to his checkpoints. A cold fear settled over me and I nervously tightened my hood over my face.

_No time for tears, sweet Allura. We're only getting started._

I refused to give him credit, but the more Sven lead me though the twisting caves and outer valleys, the more I realized he had to have been studying this terrain for months on end. It struck me that he might have been a soldier at some point, but it wasn't the time to ask. He led me through the caves at a brisk jog, twisting through corridors and stepping lightly on uneven ground. The dank, putrid smell gave way to a slight breeze. Ever so slowly, he lifted his head over a rock and peered into the valley below us. His eyes took the time to scan every detail. How he was able to see in the light of the planet – which wasn't very much light at all – was impressive. He reached out a hand and tapped the rocks in front of him twice – our agreed upon signal that the time was near to run to our next point. My blind faith in this man was unnerving, but thinking about getting caught was just as worse.

I readjusted my hood and rose myself to his level. I could see the slave barracks in the distance, less than a mile away from us. The guards were mere steps away. After a few moments, the one closest to us propped his weight on his blaster and yawned loudly. "Where are those lazy scum? A Robeast eating slaves isn't _that_ uncommon."

"You know how the newcomers get when they see the way things go around here. Blathering idiots almost aren't worth it."

"What do they expect from Planet _Doom_?"

"Not enough, apparently." There was a pause. "That Robeast enjoyed himself, though."

"Much to clean up?"

"Six little ones and eight full-grown. More than he usually gets."

"Better than we ever eat."

The conversation made bile rise in my throat. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Sven was looking at me intently, as though he were someplace else.

"You idiots are late!"

The exclamation made us both look up. Both guards walked away and behind a larger rock. Quickly, Sven raised his arm so that I could use it as leverage. He followed quickly behind me, and we both sat behind the nearest large rock we could find. It wasn't far enough away for my liking, but it got us out of the general view of the guards. Sven took a quick peek behind him then gestured for me to run ahead. I darted out as quickly as I could, trying to focus my breathing past the pain my body felt. It had been so long since I had last done anything as physically demanding as this. My heart hammered in my ears. A few more steps and I stopped behind another rock, looking behind me.

Sven had already darted ahead. I kept my eyes on the guards. The plan was to give him a signal if they had turned back around, but the four seemed to be more involved in conversation and switching out their gear than paying attention to the grounds. Sven made it to me in no time, but his back was hunched over and his breathing was deep.

"Can you make it?" I asked, suddenly worried.

"This'll be the worst for me." He gestured to the slave barracks more than fifty yards away. He had said we were supposed to crawl until we reached the barrack perimeter then reach an underground cave he had found a long time ago. When I asked him why we didn't just use the caves in the first place, he said they had been demolished past the slave barracks to discourage any escapees.

Despite the pain he was obviously in, Sven knelt to the uneven ground. "Remember to be careful with your arm."

"I don't need reminding," I bit back. I wasn't sure why I was so feisty with him today, but I believed my fear had everything to do with it. I forced myself to think only of the mission, not the fact that the closer we got to the hanger, the closer I came to Lotor's private grounds, and the harem in which I stayed.

He said this technique was called an "army crawl" – flat on your belly and using arm strength to move you forward. It was utterly exhausting. How Sven managed to get from one end of the flatlands to the grounds of the slave barracks had to have been difficult. We reached our destination and gathered close together. The barracks were very simply made; a structure with multiple levels and guards on every corner of the roof. Terrible groans filled the air while Sven looked to the roof and checked our positioning. "Good, good," he muttered, turning to me. "When I give the signal, I want you to go behind this rock. You'll find a smaller one that you'll be able to move with your one arm. Get it out of the way and go inside the hole you'll find there."

"Are we hiding out?"

"There's a cave I didn't tell you about down there. When the Drules found the system under the barracks, there was one entrance they didn't destroy so they could use it as a drain. It leads straight to the river."

I paused, considering his words. "It's a sewer."

"Exactly. Now you know why the river isn't very clear."

"I'm surprised it doesn't stink." I could never recall smelling anything foul while in the harem.

"I've been told the gardens have everything to do with that. Trust me, though," he glanced back up above us. "It stinks. Try not to react when you move the stone."

A few moments later he gave me the signal. I darted behind us and found a rock that rose to my waist. I moved it aside and went in without a second thought.

Sven neglected to tell me that the sewer water would be chest high. I used the edge of my hood to wipe at my face and cover my disgust. Sven came in shortly, slowly moving the stone back into place as he stepped one leg at a time into the water.

"Did you know it'd be so high?" I complained, feeling exhaustion and my temper start to swell. I could hear him submerge in the water then hiss painfully.

"No idea," he groaned. There was a tug on my hood. "Let's go. We don't have much time."

We waded through the waters in every direction, it seemed. The further along we travelled, the worse the smell. I suppose I should have been wondering what was in the waters with me, especially when I bumped against something that definitely wasn't Sven, but after having been in the caves for goddess knows how long, the wretchedness had worn off. There wasn't time to think about what could be with you. You had to make do with what you had.

I thought of the man who had tried to eat me, and my stomach lurched. Unfortunately, making do with what was here had driven men to insanity. I would never admit it to Sven, but despite my fears, I was anxious to leave.

It seemed like an eternity later when we finally made our way out of the mountain range and to the mouth of the river. It was pure evil itself to see the hanger and know we were still so far away from it. I took a glance at Sven. The grime and dirt from the water slowly made its way to his beard as he submerged. It was hard to tell, but he was grimacing the deeper he put himself in the water.

It hit me. "This can't be good for your wounds."

His eyes settled on me for a moment before he looked back to the shore. The river seemed to be only thirty yards wide, but not very deep. Sturdy walls were built to direct it away from the mountainside and over the bridge located—

I froze. This was the first time I had seen the harem out of doors. My eyes wandered, terrified, to that top room where Lotor had his way with me for so long. Would he be there? Would he be able to see us? What would happen if we were caught? Would I be sent back there?

I didn't realize I was frozen until Sven put his hand on my shoulder. With the way my thoughts were directed, I shrieked. He grabbed me and immediately clapped the hand over my mouth, ducking me up to my eyes in the water. Where I expected commotion, I instead heard laughter.

"He's got a squealer!" I heard in the distance, and it shook me to my core. How many nights had these men heard me scream in terror and _laughed_?

"We're going to use this to our advantage," Sven whispered. "Can you swim?"

As long as it could distract me from what I was thinking of. I nodded.

"Swim slowly. Don't worry about the current. It's hardly there. Just try to get to the other side and meet me where I stop, got it?"

I steeled myself and nodded. Sven moved first, almost drifting out into the river. He was right; moving through the current here felt like swimming in stationary water. The temptation to speed up and get to the shore quickly was overwhelming. To his credit, despite the pain, he kept his pace. How he could be this close to the water and not look like he was going to vomit was credible enough. I wished I were better at taking deeper breaths.

Finally, we reached the other side. When I joined him, he raised a finger to his lips and lifted himself over the wall. Still on his stomach, he took a quick look around then lowered his arms to me. "Quiet," he mouthed.

He helped lift me by aiding my weaker side. When I was over the water, he raised his finger to his lips again, then slowly turned around. My eyes widened, and I slowly lowered my head.

The hanger, and the guards, where mere feet away.

He turned back to me and gestured with his eyes to the nearest rock. When the pacing guards met each other and turned, we shifted little by little until we were hidden.

'"Is this the part where your plan stalls?" I whispered, leaning my face closer to his so I could be quieter.

"This is the only shift I'm not familiar with," he said, twisting his head around to look for the nearest guard. After a moment he sighed, turning back to stare at the river. "Get comfortable, Romelle. We might be here for a while."


	9. Escape

Chapter Nine - Escape

We were both almost completely dry before he decided to change the plan. While he had been shifting uncomfortably at times in his spot, his eyes were bright when he turned to me. "_Vi har flaks_! They're loading a supply ship!"

I tried to peek over his shoulder to see what he was so excited about, but I couldn't get a good look. "What does that mean for us?"

"Supply ships need only to land to their destination and return before an appointed time. If they aren't back, they're considered missing and a vessel looks for them. This means we could have a window of several hours to reach Arusian airwaves."

"What about the crew?" This seemed too good to be true.

"Small crew. A pilot and a radio operator, usually. "

I stared at him, dumbfounded. "Sven, can we even fight them?"

"Not here. But they can't handle space. Especially if they lose their radio operator." He looked away, but the gleam in his eye was unmistakable. "And they can't handle Voltron."

That mythical robot could only do so much outside of Arus. His beliefs in its ethereal qualities made me scowl. I reached for more mud to cover my hair as a distraction. "You're such an idiot," I whispered.

The light in his eyes died momentarily. I grinned to myself. Sven was an easy man to irritate.

"We don't have time to argue," he said slowly, obviously fighting his desire to snap at me. "Here's what we're going to do: the supply ship is just through those cracks there, but we won't be able to make it inside just sneaking through. The guards change their shift every hour here, but they seem too distracted listening…" He faltered for a moment. "Listening to surrounding noises."

I scowled at him. "If you're angry at me for making a noise earlier…"

His face paled for a moment. He opened his mouth, but shook his head. "It doesn't matter. The less you're aware of it, the better." He leaned forward slightly. "It looks like the guards are gathering for something. We're going to take a risk and make a break for it at the first loud noise they make."

"Are you crazy?" I whispered furiously. "What are you talking about?"

The steel in his eyes made them unreadable. I'd never seen him look at me so intently. He took a deep breath. "Listen closely to what they're saying."

I paused, stilling myself, but the look on his face sent a chill down my spine. Taking his word for it, I listened for discernible conversation.

I wish I hadn't.

"Did he just get rid of a harem girl?"

"Who cares? His Majesty goes through harem girls like we go through slaves. They do their job then we're done with them."

"He has to have a new one." There was a shuffling of feet. "Place it now. Scream of fear, or does she go through with it?"

A collection of voices spoke in unison. I could do nothing but stare at the ground, frozen in fear and sick revelation. They were taking bids… on the actions of the harem girls?

"Really, who was that one he just got rid of? The blonde one?"

"Shut up, they're all blonde."

"Yeah, but he kept her for a while. Rarely does that."

"Must've been something special about her." Sleazy laughter followed.

"Maybe she really liked it."

"I hear he makes 'em beg."

"Beg? I've heard them scream like they couldn't be loud enough!"

"Is that another bet, then? How long the screams last?"

"If she's new, she'll never make it!"

My entire body was trembling. A terror that I have never quite realized gripped my heart. These guards – mere pawns in Zarkon's ranks – amused themselves with bets on the actions and durability of the harem girls. They had heard me for months. They had bet on me for months.

These monsters had heard screams for who knows how long and have made it their amusement.

I looked at Sven. He stared back. "The first loud noise," he repeated.

I nodded. I didn't even try to hide that I wanted to leave. It took everything inside of me to calm myself and focus on what we were doing, not on what was going on right behind us.

There was an inaudible yell in the distance.

"That's one!"

"Get your hand away! That doesn't count!"

Silence was heavy in the small area. I clenched my hands into fists. The anticipation was disgusting.

Another cry sounded.

"That wasn't much."

"He probably hasn't been drinking tonight."

"Even if he wasn't, he still—"

A cry stretched into a shriek. The guards cheered, but it wasn't loudly. Putting my weight against the rock, I realized why they gathered here; Lotor's window overlooked the hanger. The sound carried well and bounced off the hanger walls right into this valley, the perfect place for a betting ground of absolute repugnance.

"_Please_!" The scream came a moment later.

I closed my eyes tightly.

_I will not waste my time with your rebellion! _

Laughter echoed in my ears. "Here he goes! _Here he goes_!"

"Shut up! I can't hear!"

_You don't seem to understand the honor you have, my dear Allura._

There was a muffled yelling. All of my weight was pressed against the rock as my body trembled. I could barely breathe.

_The spoils of war are mine to claim, and I will have my victory. Before this night is over you will _beg_ me for more once you realize that a night with me is an _honor_ that is given!_

My world spun around me. I tried to close my mind off from the sounds of the night, but I risked losing Sven's signal in the process. I sent a silent prayer for the women who would be at Lotor's mercy.

"He usually doesn't take this long… maybe this one's feisty?"

"You act like you'll get her at some point."

"Heh, who wants the whores when His Majesty's done with them? They've got nothing left."

"Look, there they are!"

Something tapped the rock in front of me. Startled, I opened my eyes and looked at Sven. He had the unreadable expression again. "We're almost there. When I run, follow me."

The silence in the valley gave way to the excited chatter of the guards. A heart-wrenching scream echoed for a long, inescapable moment. The guards cheered. Sven looked as though he was going to run, but he stopped at the last second.

"She's going to scream!"

"Maybe he's making her talk!"

"Aw, c'mon! Make her squeal, Your Majesty!"

The guards started a thunderous chant of "Scream! Scream! Scream! Scream!" As I felt my resolve shatter, Sven darted from the rock and ran towards the hanger. Fear of being left alone – of having to listen to a tortured soul and reliving vivid memories – drove me to my feet after him. I faltered at first, but the noise the guards were making was so loud, they couldn't hear. They all had their backs to us, staring in fascination at Lotor's bedroom window. I saw shapes, but turned my back before I could recognize anything.

Sven reached for my arm in the shadow of the hanger. I recoiled, hugging my arms to myself. "Stay away from me," I spat.

"You have to focus," he said calmly. I looked at him expecting his irritancy at my attitude, but only saw pity. "You need to focus," he said again.

"I don't want your pity," I bit at him.

"Fine," he said, but the look never faded. "Then let's get to that ship and get the hell out of here."

I expected Sven to run through the hanger like a man possessed. Instead, the man who always looked so eager to escape his surroundings moved silently from shadow to shadow, giving me cues to pass from one location to the next. We darted through the arched walkways of the hanger, stopping at the slightest movement before continuing. Sooner than I had expected, he stopped and crouched low. His eyes narrowed. With my back to the wall, I peered past him.

On the other side of the wall we were standing against, a small ship sat unguarded. A door was open on the back, a great temptation for the two of us.

"Is that it?" I asked quietly, wondering if it was really going to be this easy.

"That's it." Sven moved his head in front of mine and looked around the hanger. "There aren't any guards nearby. Good."

"It can't be so simple."

"Actually, it can. I told you supply ships have a very simple itinerary. All are given a window of time to return."

"How do you know this for sure?" I knew that panic was starting to settle in slightly. I could hear it in my voice and it made me upset.

Sven turned to me. His eyes almost weren't visible under the shaggy mess of his hair and the grime of the river. "What did you think I was doing when I left the caves?"

Of course. He had been scouting for other prisoners, after all. I looked away and peered back at the ship. "When do they leave?"

"As soon as the crew is ready," he replied. "They're either ready to close the door or gathering the last of the supplies." He looked back into the hanger. "Follow me closely."

Sven didn't give me a moment to think about what he'd just said. He moved away from the wall and ran towards the open door. I followed as close as I could. The light was brighter than what I had been used to, but it seemed to me like Sven ran with a slight limp and a hunched back. It was the first time I had ever seen him this clearly.

He charged ahead into the shuttle. For a moment I feared I would hear alarmed voices, but Sven only stopped at the top of the ramp. Standing beside him, I saw the controls were unmanned. Crates and compartments covered the small floor of the ship.

"Are we hiding in, or around?" I asked, my senses on high alert.

Sven looked around for a moment. He reached over and opened a compartment. Inside were two small blasters. He handed me one, making sure it was armed. "Around. Wait until my signal. Squeeze the trigger, don't pull."

"You can't be serious."

"Have you ever fired a blaster before?"

"What kind of an idiot are you? What makes you think I've ever fired a blaster in my life?" I shoved it back at him. "I don't know what you're planning, but me firing that is _not_ something I'll permit."

He took the gun back carefully, a small blaze in his eyes. "Fine. Maybe I'm saving both of our lives. Odds are probably you'll miss and kill us all."

Goddess, this man… I wanted to argue his point, but he was probably right. Instead, I watched him turn and back into the farthest corner of the ship, finding a wedge between two crates that he haphazardly maneuvered into. He held out a hand to help me, but I shoved it away and squeezed in myself. The space was small and very cramped; though we were crouched, our arms and legs touched completely. I had just enough time to re-cover my hair before we heard footfalls. Two soldiers walked from the hanger into the opening of the ship, speaking to each other their flight plan. I glanced at Sven, wondering what his next great idea was, and noticed the gleam in his eye when, during their procedural walkthrough, they said "autopilot." He raised his thumb and unarmed the blaster. I thought of looking at him disapprovingly, but I was too anxious in the small space. The guards' voices were startlingly clear as they performed the takeoff maneuver. We heard the door seal itself mere feet away from us, and the slight shutter as the ship's engines built in intensity. We were rocked on our heels as the ship angled itself for takeoff to space.

I heard Sven grunt and noticed he had braced his weight against the crate in front of us. Glancing upward, I feared for the crate stacked above it, but Sven waved his hand in reassurance. As long as we could keep the box from sliding backwards into us, we'd be okay. I braced my weight against the box, my slight excitement over escaping Doom's atmosphere calmed by the possible threat of being crushed before we'd even left.

After a moment or two, the ship leveled. The roar of the engines died into a steady hum, and the pilots voices became more clear. They both sounded tremendously bored.

"Stabilize thrusters, maintain flight status," one droned on, yawning loudly as he did.

"Stabilized. Setting flight trajectory and maintaining course." There was a pause. "Why are you so tired?"

"I'm not. I just hate these supply runs. Can't they get someone else to do this?"  
"It's a bottom of the barrel job. Obviously we're worthless."

"No better than slaves. How courteous of our gracious King and leader." Another pause. The ship leveled a bit more. "Autopilot activated. At least we'll get back before nightfall. Did you strap in the cargo?"

"Of course I did. What kind of a stupid question is that?"

There was no response. There was a clacking noise, like a harness being unbuckled. I looked to Sven, who seemed to see through the crate he was leaning against. I'd never seen such an intent look in his eyes before. He rearmed the blaster and set it on his knees. He still had the other one in his hand, which he also made sure was armed. He never looked my way. I'm not sure I wanted him to. Slowly, he began to raise himself out of his crouch, keep both blasters in his hands. He froze just before his hood was equal to the top of the crate.

"What is Ebb anyway? A medical planet?" The pilot's voice was very close. I closed my eyes and ducked my head.

"Does it matter? We get there, drop this stuff off and get home. It's the same job we always have."

"So we aren't planning on a few women before we leave?"

His voice was quieter than before. Sven stood fully and pointed the blasters ahead of him. He fired one shot. A scream. He fired another. Quickly, he moved from behind the crates. I followed more slowly, too much in a daze to be able to focus on what was happening. When I finally came out, Sven had wrapped his arms around one of the shot soldiers heads and twisted violently. There was an audible snap. The pilot fell lifeless. Sven moved to the motionless body in the pilot's seat.

"I thought you shot them," I said, slightly stunned.

"Need to make sure they're dead." There was another snap. He unbuckled the harness and dragged the body to the floor. "Couldn't risk the shot not doing the job."

"It's so reassuring to see how confident you are in yourself," I drawled. He didn't notice. His eyes were startlingly intent, running over the buttons and knobs in the console.

"You've learned how to fly one of their ships?" I asked, unable to take some of the awe out of my voice. If he were this skilled, Delsa and the others were truly foolish to not accept his help and the time he requested for escaping.

His hands paused. "I've done this before."

I wasn't sure what it was that made the both of us pause, but when he looked at me, I realized this was the first time I had a chance to see him so well. In the simple light of the supply ship, I realized how gaunt he looked despite the strength he held. His beard was ragged and covered with grime and other unmentionables from the river. He had removed his hood, causing his long hair to aid his beard in covering everything on his head. The only space that was most visible were his blood shot eyes, dirt caked in the crevices of his skin, deep bags sinking into his beard. I had never noticed his eyes were blue.

He broke the stare and reached inside of his cloak. He pulled out a small device that fit comfortably in his hand and stared at it for a moment.

"You've escaped Doom before?" I finally said, wondering what was making him pause so suddenly. Didn't he realize we only had so much time?

"With the Voltron Force," he said quietly. He set the device next to a panel and pressed some buttons. "I just hope they can get this."

Something in his countenance had changed in a matter of seconds. His hands shook as he directed what looked like a signal to a particular location in space. I wasn't sure how far we were from Doom, but it seemed as if Sven was comfortable enough with the distance to do… whatever it was he was doing. He seemed nervous - incredibly anxious, as one would do when containing excitement. Taking a deep breath, he pressed and held a rectangular button on the control panel.

"Garrison code six niner Charlie echo four two requesting aid from the Castle of Lions. Can you hear me?"

There was static on the line. The look of intense concentration returned to his face. He stared at the small device he had removed from his cloak.

"I repeat, Garrison code six niner Charlie echo four two requesting aid from the Castle of Lions. Do you read me?"

His eyes darted across the panel, reading buttons and code that I had no knowledge of. A knot began to form in my stomach. The static continued.

"Garrison code six niner Charlie echo four two requesting aid from the Castle of Lions. Do you read me?"

The static broke for a moment. I let my head fall back against the headrest, trying to appear indifferent. Even if Sven got the transmission through, it would still be time before someone could pick us up. Doom might find us before then.

"Garrison code six niner Charlie echo four two requesting aid from the Castle of Lions. Please respond."

There was a different noise this time. Unwittingly, I opened my eyes and looked at the panel. Static was still interfering with the transmission, but a voice spoke clearly on the other side.

"Copy, echo four two. Request identification status."

Sven's eyes began to blink furiously. "I doubt there are many people in the universe who still use Morse code."

There was silence for a moment, but when the transmission continued, there were other voices in the background. "Holy shit! It _is _Sven!"

"I _told_ you that was Morse!" said a much younger voice.

"Great job, Pidge," this voice spoke with much more authority, but there was an obvious lump in their throat. "Sven, we've received your signal and are attempting to locate your position. Do you have coordinates?"

Sven's eyes continued to blink furiously, but this time tears were starting to flow down his cheeks. "I'm sending them to you now. Depending on where you are, we should be able to get out of here before they realize we've commandeered one of their supply ships."

There was a moment of silence. "Got 'em. We're shifting and heading in your direction. Hang tight, Sven. We're on our way." A quiet chuckle. "It's good to hear your voice."

It took Sven a moment to answer. "Agreed. We'll remain stationary until you arrive."

"Copy." Sven didn't seem to hear the close in transmission. A dirty hand, filled with cuts and long fingernails, covered his face as Sven openly wept. I turned away and closed my eyes, unable to ignore the simultaneous feeling of utter joy and absolute dread.

I was escaping the hell I had been imprisoned in for months and trading it for another prison on a rival planet. I wanted to be bitter. I wanted to hate Sven more. I wanted to grab that device and throw it across the ship and watch it shatter into pieces. I wanted to insult his pride by attacking his tears.

It felt impossible when I had tears of my own. Relief and joy. Pain and embarrassment Fear and dread. One hell for another.

I wish I had died on Doom. Anything would be better than what awaited me on Arus.


	10. Return to Arus

Chapter Ten – Return to Arus

Shortly after Sven's transmission, the five lions of Voltron arrived in a perfect formation. Sven could barely contain his excitement, staring at the lions with the wonder of a small child. I was unaware Voltron even had five parts; the last time I had seen the robot, it had been fully formed and had just killed my brother.

My contempt for this "defender" only grew. I watched as the formation tightened around us, securing us entirely as Sven ignited the thrusters and flew in the center of the formation. He was chatting excitedly with the other pilots, unable to stop the tears that came down his face, streaking through the dirt that had collected for so long. I raised a hand to my hair and wiped it across my face, hoping it would hide any tracks my own tears had caused. My mind wouldn't stop wondering how Arus would look, barely registering the conversation going on next to me. I heard a woman speak.

"We're so happy you're safe, Sven," she spoke tenderly, as if she knew what he had gone through.

"I'm happy all of you are still alive," he responded. "Does Blue still handle well, Princess?"

Princess? Suddenly I was snooping on the conversation. When did the Princess of Arus risk her life flying a robot? Perhaps she was from another planet? That didn't make sense, though.

"Like a dream. I'm sure it flies the same way when you handled it."

Shock hit me hard. When he…? "You were a Voltron _pilot_!" I exclaimed, staring at him in surprise.

"Sven? Do you have someone else with you?" There was the authoritative voice again. Sven reached over and hit the transmission button. "Give me a minute, guys."

He turned resolute eyes to me. "You always speak about Voltron with disgust. Would you have gone with me if I had told you this earlier?"

"Of course I wouldn't have! When you said you had escaped with the Voltron Force, I didn't think that meant you were a _pilot_!"

Sven raised his hands slightly. "Surprise," he said sarcastically.

"That's how you got Delsa and the others to follow you, isn't it?"

"Of course not," he looked at me like I was an absolute idiot.

"Really? Why else would they have followed an injured wild man from the caves?"

"I think you've recognized first hand how desperate people are on Doom."

I thought of the man who had tried to eat me and shuddered. A spark flared inside of me. "I'm surprised you didn't use your popularity to give them hope."

"Of _course_ I didn't!" Sven slammed his fists on the consol. "I _couldn't_! How would you feel if a pilot from the famed Defender of the Universe wound up a prisoner on Doom? That doesn't give you hope. It takes away what you have left. Why would I do that to them? They didn't need a Voltron pilot. They needed a soldier."

"They wound up with you anyway," I said, glaring straight into his eyes. "How dare you keep your status quiet from me?"

"_Look at me!_ Do I look like I could fly one of those now?"

"You said it yourself. You're a soldier, not a pilot." Anger flared in his eyes. Good.

"What do you have against the Voltron Force?"

I turned away, keeping my voice cold. "I told you, they're my planet's rival. I was born to hate them."

"Don't talk about the planet. What do you have against _Voltron_?"

An image of Avok being slain by the robot flashed in my mind. "I have my reasons."

"So when you're rescued by them, are you still going to be bitter? It sounds like you have a childish argument."

"I said I had my reasons. I don't have to explain them to you."

"So you'd rather pout instead of be grateful you still have your life?"

I barked a laugh. "Pout! I'm sorry, I didn't realize I should be grateful that an invalid Voltron soldier saved my life. You obviously take wonderful care of yourself. It's a shame they won't let you back right away when they see your injuries."

"Injuries heal."

"Don't give me that rubbish. If you're going to validate your time as a Voltron pilot by saving one person's life from Doom, I think you need to seriously rethink your goals."

He spoke through gritted teeth. "As a soldier, it is my job to serve and protect—"

"This beloved Princess of yours, I know." I glanced at the lions. "The stupid woman shouldn't be flying in a toy. She should be ruling her planet."

"She _is_ ruling her planet. She protects them better than most monarchs I've read about."

"So what happens when she dies? Does the Voltron Force come in to make everything better?" I let sarcasm drip from my words.

"We would do anything to protect her. She's one of us."

"She's not one of you – she's _your replacement._ _You _are not one of _them_."

"You don't know anything about me."

"Just like you don't know anything about me." I finished lightly, ending the argument.

Sven wouldn't have it. "I know enough to realize you are a bitter women, full of self contempt and unfounded rage. Your words are venomous and your actions are thoughtless. You'd do anything to destroy someone if it means you can be better. You're the very picture of ugliness this universe could behold."

I couldn't stop myself. I reached out and slapped him. "Don't you dare speak that way to me again."

When he turned to look at me, the rage in his eyes flared memories in my mind. _If you try to hurt me again, I will hurt you tenfold._ I kept my hands to my sides to try and stop the shaking, but I couldn't stop my arms from covering my torso when he reached out to grab me.

"Sven? Is everything okay in there?"

He stopped at the sound of another voice. The anger in his eyes died when he looked at me.

"Don't you dare touch me," I whispered, but the shuddering breaths couldn't hide my fear.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said, but I couldn't tell if he was talking to himself or me. He hit the transmission. "Are we close to Arus?"

"We should be landing in about fifteen minutes."

"Copy." Sven leaned back into his chair, staring at the vastness of space and the blue planet that was quickly approaching. "When we get to Arus, you're free to leave."

My fear died with his indifference. "You said you'd take me home."

"It seems to me you can make it home just fine."

"You made a deal with me," I reminded him. Then, to pour salt on the wound, I said piteously, "You gave me your word as a soldier."

He kept his eyes forward. "Fine," he said after a moment, his irritation evident.

I couldn't help it. I looked in the direction of Pollux and sighed deeply. "Keeping your word is all you're good for anyway."

Sven said nothing.

Arus was as beautiful as it looked from the reaches of space. When the Voltron Force broke formation, we were headed towards a large castle that looked far more technologically advanced than anything I'd seen on Pollux. While this "sister planet" looked as well as my own, it seemed they could strike with a far greater advantage at any time they wished. I would have to tell the council of this.

We landed at a large docking bay built in front of the castle. The sun was shining with very little cloud cover. After being on Doom for so long, it was giving me a headache trying to adjust to the brilliant light. The reflection off the castle walls was nearly unbearable. A strong breeze slightly rocked the ship when it landed. I could hear the trees and birds flying overhead.

It made me long for home. Did this planet intend to torture me with its beauty?

Sven eagerly unclipped his harness and opened the loading door. The sunlight reflected strongly from the landing strip, making me squint even more. Jubilant voices echoed in the small space.

"Good God, you look awful!"

"It's good to see you too, Lance."

"I alerted Dr. Gorma before we left. He should be coming shortly for medical attention."

"Thank you, Princess. I appreciate it."

"Where's the other person?"

The silence seemed deafening. I had been frozen in my seat since we landed, unsure of what I should do from here on out. I hadn't been officially captured, but would I be once the Princess knew where I was from?

Sven's limping footfalls echoed in the ship. He appeared next to me. Whether he was still angry with me for earlier, I couldn't tell. "Come on. Let's get you out of here." Numbly, I unbuckled the harness and stood slowly, afraid to turn around and discover more of what this world had to offer. With the sun as bright as it was, I put the hood back over my head like Sven had done himself. He reached for my arm, but I pulled it away from him. I was a Polluxian on an enemy world; no one would pamper me. I would stand proud.

The sunlight was blinding when we got outside. I lowered my head more. Through squinted eyes, I could see boots of several colors, but even that was hard to look at.

"Sorry guys," Sven said, obviously in as much pain as I was. "It's been a while since we were in sunlight."

"It's okay, Sven." A pair of pink boots stepped closer to be. There was the brush of fabric. A bare hand came into view. "I am Princess Allura. You are more than welcome on my home world."

A chill that I hadn't in a long while ran through my veins. Though the sunlight was unbearable, I felt my eyes widen in pure shock. My body began to shake. Bile rose in my throat.

_ You remind me of someone I know… someone I once swore my life to._

_ You are not worthy, because you are not her. Do you understand? Only she is worthy to be where you are now. Only I am worthy of her. Since you are her stand-in for the time being, you will proclaim me… worthy. Say it._

Hands tighten around my wrists.

_Say it._

Painful movement.

_Say it!_

Complete restriction.

_SAY IT!_

I stumbled. That hand reached out for me. I recoiled. Mustering what courage I could find, I opened my eyes fully, resisting the ache of the sunlight, and lifted my head. I raised my hands and removed the hood, staring at the face of Princess Allura. The gentle caring in her eyes evaporated in an instant.

Her hair was as brilliant as the sunlight itself, strands sticking out of the bun she had it in. Her eyes were a stunning compliment, the sun and the sky. She was the perfect image of innocence and purity. A helmet was tucked under one arm. The hand she had offered to me was covering her mouth.

"Holy _crap_."

"Oh my God."

I barely registered the other pilots standing there. I would not be belittled to this princess. I stared back at her shocked face, daring her to say something.

Another voice from the castle spoke loudly. "Out of the way, everyone! Please, out of the way! We need to get Sven taken care of immediately. If you could just—oh."

I continued to stare at that princess, feeling tears leave my eyes at the unbearable brightness of the sun. Her expression hadn't changed much. She looked at the newcomer for a moment, dropping her hand, but she looked back at me almost immediately.

"Well… I suppose this means we have two patients to take care of. Sven, it's wonderful to see you again. You've looked… better."

"I'm sure I'll feel better in a few hours."

"Lets not waste any time. We should get you both inside. Nanny, would you tend to…?"

A shape moved into my peripheral vision. An older, plump woman reached out to take my arm, trying to consol me. I recoiled and slapped her hand away. "Don't touch me,"

"It's all right," she said consolingly. "I'm only going to help you through the castle."

"Let it go, Nanny. I'll take her in."

"I'm not a child," I said bitterly, glaring at the woman.

The woman stared back at me, but her face was unreadable. I didn't like her already. She glanced at Sven and nodded her head. A hand tugged the sleeve of my cloak. I kept my eyes on the woman until I had to fully turn to follow Sven. I never looked back at that princess.

The one Lotor longed for. The one I had been a substitute for. My hatred for her had burned deeply for as long as I remembered. It flared to violent life now that I had seen her.

His substitute… because I looked exactly like her.

Sven led me inside the giant castle and straight to the medical bay like he knew the location intimately. It wasn't long before a doctor showed up and greeted the two of us in what I could only guess was his office.

"Well, it's obvious the two of you can walk under your own power, but I would still like to do an extensive check-up just to make sure everything is okay." I recognized his voice as the man who had been outside moments before that women had tried to lead me in. "Sven, do you have any basic medical reports to give me about… your friend here?"

Friend? I scoffed. Sven looked at me momentarily, almost analyzing me, before he turned back to the doctor. "She's had a broken forearm and some puncture wounds. A few other injuries here and there."

I wondered if he was intentionally vague, or if he had strong suspicions about… The doctor nodded and looked the both of us over. "Well, I'd like to do a full look-over on you," he pointed at Sven, "since I'm not sure you made it to Ebb on time to have yourself properly taken care of. I'm assuming you set her arm?"

"Yes."

"Very good. Well, I suppose the young lady would like to have some time alone. I'll have a nurse escort you to the showers where you can get yourself cleaned up, but I'd like to run a full medical check on you, just in case."

"I don't need your help," I said quietly, looking away from him.

"Of course you don't," he said gently. "But I'm also sure you have no interest of being malnourished when we have everything needed to nurse you back to health."

I said nothing. I would never admit it, but having food and fresh water to drink and bathe in sounded short of Heaven. For all I knew, they were going to ambush me in it.

"There's a nurse waiting outside to take you to your own personal shower. It's in your room, so you'll have access to it whenever you'd like. We'll provide you with soap and shampoo, but if you need anything sharp to shave with, you'll have to let the nurse do that. If you'd like anything to eat or drink, just let her know. She and I will be taking care of you."

I glanced at him when he mentioned something sharp. His face was kind, but there was a calculating look him his eyes that made me uneasy. I unconsciously tightened my hold on the cloak still covering me.

"Go clean up and rest, Romelle," Sven said irritably. The nurse stood outside the door with a warm smile. I didn't want to go; the last place I wanted to be in this cursed planet was away from Sven, yet I couldn't wait to get away from him. He had lied to me this entire time. I couldn't trust him anymore.

Slowly, I turned to the nurse and walked towards the open door. She closed it just as the doctor began to talk to Sven again. She led to me to a door further down the hall, opening it for me. It was a decent sized room with a clean and sterile feel. The sheets were white, and there was an IV waiting by the bed.

"I've already taken the liberty of drawing you a bath," the woman said quietly. She walked to the bathroom and opened the door. There was a light frame of steam on the top of a large mirror. "You've got towels and a gown there. Be careful with that arm. Once you're done, we'll take another look at it. Take as long as you need." Before she closed the door, she took one last look at me. "We'll take good care of you, miss. Doctor Gorma is a good man."

She spoke the last words reassuringly. I frowned at the door. My Father had told me Lotor was a good man, too.

There was a strange scent in the air, but it was very soothing. Reaching out to lock the door, I took a look around the bathroom. It seemed simple enough, with a toilet and sink and a large tub that I'd easily fit in. The corners were free of any kind of camera, and the air vent didn't reveal any intrusion. The fan was already running. Hesitantly, I reached out and touched the water in the tub. It was still warm. Dirt flowed off my fingertips.

Glancing at the door again to make sure it was locked, I pulled the cloak off my head and ripped off my shirt with an enthusiasm I had thought long buried. I carefully pulled my arm out of the sleeve then all but kicked my pants away. I had lived and suffered in clothes that someone else had died in. I'd waste no more time in them if I could.

Fully nude, I turned and saw my reflection in the mirror, seeing myself for the first time since my capture. The woman in the mirror was not the Romelle I recognized. My hair was almost entirely brown and oily, large knots making it stick out seemingly everywhere. My eyes were red, as Sven's were, and large bags made me look years older than I was. Slowly, my eyes trailed over the still-healing bruises on my neck, the cuts across my shoulders and breasts, the bite marks on my arms, and the long, perfect scar trailing low on my abdomen. With a dirtied nail, I traced this particular scar, remembering the first time I saw it, and the sheer dread that flooded my being at the thought of how cruel and heartless Lotor could be. The fresh cuts blended in with ones that were still pink. There were yellow bruises across my thighs.

I looked in the mirror and saw a woman who had been defeated. Here stood the last great hope of Pollux, battered, rendered helpless and slain of spirit. My eyes slowly moved to every mark on my body, from the still-healing bruises to the bite mark on my shoulder. It seemed to be slightly infected. After really seeing myself for the first time, I honestly didn't care.

I turned to the bath and gingerly lifted a foot into the water. The warmth was comforting, not unbearable, and I happily stepped into the tub and sat down.

That's when the pain started. Muscles that had not yet had a chance to relax tightened and ached. I hissed, having to try and slowly lower myself when I could barely hold my weight. I leaned to one side of the tub, ready to clumsily fall in. After a moment, holding my weight with my legs, I was able to gradually lie in the tub while my muscles relaxed. By the time I was fully in, I was too overcome with anxiety to care.

I was either going to be a prisoner on this planet, or I was going to die of my own physical ailments.

Letting out a shudder, I closed my eyes and felt tears fall, unable to enjoy this simple luxury. My muscles ached and clenched painfully at times. Trying to wash my hair became a taxing ordeal. When I had finally moved the soap over the last bit of skin, the water was brown and filthy. I felt like I needed another bath. Carefully standing, I unplugged the drain and grabbed one of the towels left for me. My hair was once again blonde – like _that_ princess – and my skin had a shine to it I hadn't seen in so long.

There was a gentle knock on the door. "Miss? I've brought you something to eat and drink. If you're ready, we'd like to take a look at that arm of yours."

Would these people ever leave me alone? The gown was thankfully modest, but it didn't cover my neck. Forgoing any attempt to dry my hair, I wrapped the towel around my neck and hoped the nurse hadn't seen anything earlier. Praying she would leave soon I slowly opened the door. She was standing there with a gentle smile. With a gesture she led me to the bed, where a small tray held some sandwiches and a large glass of water. I wanted to devour it the moment I saw it, but I instead sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my long toenails and gingerly holding my arm.

"Miss," she spoke gently, "I don't mean to alarm you, but that food isn't going to be good enough to help you get better. We've got to get an IV started in you so we can help your body recover."

Recover. The woman didn't know the meaning of the word. I watched her every movement as she applied the sterile wipe to my hand, then pressed the needle to a vein. After a moment, she returned with another needle, which I assumed held these nutrients she was speaking of. She guided me to lie on the bed. I wondered if my arm would be able to handle ripping the IV out should I need to escape.

As she stood over it and gently moved her fingers across my skin, my eyes suddenly felt very heavy. I gasped. "What did you do?"

"It's okay, Miss," she said in that quiet tone I was beginning to hate. "It's just a mild sedative to help you sleep."

No. I had heard that before. Goddess, please…! "No!' I reached for her. "I don't want it!"

"It's okay, ma'am," she said gently, and fear pooled in my stomach. "Just relax."

"No!" I exclaimed, trying to turn my hand downward so I could rub the tape off. My body felt like it had been weighted down. I _knew _this feeling, was frighteningly familiar with it. "Get it… please…" My vision blurred. Try as hard as I may, my eyes slowly closed.

"That's it, Miss. It's okay."

_Don't worry about a thing, my dear. This is to just help you… relax._


	11. The Slaves Call It 'Doom'

My eyes opened. The room was dark. There were voices around me, but I couldn't focus on what they were saying.

They drugged me. The damn Arusians drugged me. I tried to focus and stay awake, but my eyelids felt so heavy.

* * *

"You're sure you need to stay in here?"

"I think it would be for the best."

* * *

"Getting enough to eat?"

"More than I could ask for."

"What about her?"

"She's been asleep."

* * *

"You're fine, Romelle. You're going to be okay."

* * *

"If you need any assistance, you just press this button."

"Thank you, nurse."

* * *

"It's the first time she's slept for hours."

"You know I don't like doing this."

"She needs it. She won't take care of herself."

* * *

"How long has she had them?"

"For as long as I've known her."

* * *

"I would say keep her under."

"I won't do it indefinitely."

"I know. Just enough to help her get some sleep."

* * *

When my eyes next opened, I felt as if I had awakened from a great slumber. Strange, considering moments later I felt completely exhausted. It only took a few blinks for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. The large windows I was facing had been covered with blankets. The source of light came from behind me.

"I'll bet you feel better."

I froze. I couldn't see anyone directly in my sights. Were they talking to me?

"I feel great. You have no idea how great food tastes until you don't have it anymore."

Sven was here? I wanted to turn around and see what was going on, but I couldn't muster the courage to move.

"You're welcome to have as much as you'd like."

_That _voice. I'd only heard it a few times, but I already knew whom it belonged to. My desire to move evaporated.

"That's kind of you Princess, but I can only handle so much for right now."

"Wise, too." I recognized this as the doctor from earlier. What was his name? "It will take a little while for your body to adjust and eat as much food as you'd like, but we'll make sure you're supplied with enough nutrients to get healthy again."

"What about her?" This voice was strong. I had heard it before, but I couldn't place whom it belonged to. I felt their eyes on my back.

Someone cleared their throat. "Captain, since Sven is under your command, I feel it's right that you know he's asked me to keep her sedated."

He… Sven asked for me to be drugged?

"Is there a reason for that?"

"She doesn't sleep," Sven answered quietly. "When we were on Doom she only slept for a handful of hours. She kept having night terrors."

Night terrors?

"Is that why you asked to be moved to her room?" _she_ asked.

"I was the only one who kept her quiet. She had one the first night I took care of her. She gets them on and off."

"So you're trying to help her by drugging her?"

There was a pause. "She won't take care of herself. If we left her alone, she wouldn't eat anything. Drugging her meant that the nurses could fully take care of her without protest."

"You don't think she would have let them?"

"She didn't even want me to save her." There was a tone in his voice I couldn't recognize. "What were they able to find?"

"Are you sure this is information you'd like me to discuss with the Captain and the Princess here?"  
"I think it's necessary. Keith, I'd like to give a report on what I've seen after Dr. Gorma's finished."

"Not before?"

"I have a bad feeling they're connected. If what the doctor says is anything that I suspect, a section of my report can be confirmed."

I couldn't help but feel like an experiment. A well of bitterness formed in my stomach. The full disclosure of my injuries would be given without my consent. This really was a terrible fate.

"Well," the doctor began. There was a rustle of papers. "The young lady – Romelle, you said her name was? Multiple bruises and abrasions, several puncture wounds that were probably from that fall in the Pit of Skulls. Cuts everywhere, both fresh and healed. The bite mark on her shoulder was infected so we cleaned that and bandaged it up. Her forearm has been set nicely, but she'll need that cast for a little while longer." He paused again then sighed. "The bruises on her neck are healing well, but it seems there has been previous damage to her throat. You said she talked quietly when you met her?"

"With a rasp, yes."

"It looks like her larynx had been slightly damaged again."

"Again?"

A pause. "This was not the first time this had happened. Three places in particular caught my attention. There were bruises on her thighs that were healing, a set of scars on her wrists that looked intentional, and a surgical scar on her lower abdomen that I'd rather not investigate without her permission."

"Do you know why it would be there?"

"I'd rather not speculate aloud, either. Sven, I will follow your requests to a certain extent, but there's a breach of privacy that I refuse to act on when it comes to wounds like this. Unless she gives her permission to investigate, the scar on her abdomen is cause for concern, but that's all I know."

I didn't realize tears had fallen down my face until they spilled over the side of my nose. Violated by a Prince and now violated by a rival. How dare they examine me? How dare Sven request such a thing?

"That's fine," Sven dismissed, but the tone of his voice said he wasn't satisfied. "I had seen her thighs when I dressed her in the caves. Has she…" he trailed off. "Is there evidence of rape?"

A gasp. The room was heavy with an uncomfortable silence. I waited for the truth to be revealed to complete strangers.

"There was definite evidence of multiple penetrations over a prolonged period of time."

There it was. I closed my eyes, feeling my blood run cold and my shame overtake me. I couldn't give away that I was awake, no matter how much I wanted to hide under the covers and slip away from this world.

"Did you find lice?" Sven asked quietly.

"Only a little bit. It was hard enough to get to her scalp. I'm not sure who she's going to kill first, you for requesting the sedatives and examination, or me for cutting her hair."

My eyes opened again. My free hand slowly reached for my hair. Once falling as far as the small of my back, it now came to just below my shoulders. Could this possibly get any worse? What more could they do to me?

There was a scratching noise. "I doubt this'll make her feel better."

"I'd like to keep both of you here until you're fully healthy. I don't know where Romelle comes from, but chances are she'd have died of malnourishment before she'd gotten home. You've saved her life, Sven."

That bastard. Goddess, curse this man and his noble ways. May he die the death meant for me.

"I doubt she'll see it that way." The room grew quiet again. I tried my hardest to ignore the sob that wanted to tear out of me. I would not give these Arusians the pleasure of seeing me in pain.

"I'll see about getting you a stocking cap. I'll bet you're cold now that you've lost all that hair."

"Thank you, doctor," _she_ said quietly. The door opened and closed. The silence continued a moment longer. Perhaps they were basking in my shame. I knew little of how Arusians acted towards prisoners, but if they planned on gloating over precious secrets, now was a perfect time to do it.

"Keith, if you have time, I'd like to give you my report now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. As soon as possible."

"I'll leave the two of you alone, then." _she_ answered. I heard the rustle of fabric.

"Actually, Princess… I think it would be for the best if you heard this." These pauses were maddening without knowing what was going on. "I think… there are details you should be made aware of."

"How people are treated on Korrinoth?"

Sven spoke the realization the moment it entered my mind. "I had forgotten it was called that."

"What do you mean?" _she _asked.

There was another scrape of chair legs. "When my medical ship was ambushed, the pilots and crewmembers were killed because they were armed. A few doctors were spared, but those who were wounded fatally were killed. Why they kept me alive, I don't know. It wasn't as though I could move very well, but I made myself hide in the shadows as much as I could.

"The ship landed sometime later," Sven paused. I hadn't seen all that he had, but I could imagine he was losing himself in memory. "There were people of all age groups on board. They divide them into particular sections for particular reasons." I heard a rustle of paper. "There are six works zones surrounding the barracks – here, here, here, here, here, and here. The Pit of Skulls is just across the way."

"The Pit of Skulls?"

"It's where they leave the dead, if they weren't sent to the Robeast feeding grounds first."

"I remember seeing something like this. Didn't we wind up somewhere around here when we escaped?"

"Zarkon apparently wasn't taking chances. The barracks we were at have been demolished. A new one has been built here, on the other side of the mountains. It seems as though he wants to make the work zones less obvious when he wants to entertain his allies."

"He thinks slavery is entertainment? The monster."

"It's not entertainment to him, Princess. It's strength. Zarkon's castle is here, Lotor has his own section as well, and they both lead to the courtyard that takes them through the mountains and into the arena. The Robeast feeding grounds are still next to the slave barracks."

"Meant to intimidate, I'm sure."

"I thought so too, but…" Sven's voice faded away. "The slave barracks are more like… a house of prisoners for Lotor. He made frequent visits there. I think it was made that way because it was easier to get the bodies to the feeding grounds."

There was darkness to his voice, an unsettled tone that I hadn't heard before. Chills ran down the back of my neck.

"Sven," _her_ voice sounded compassionate, though there was a slight tremble of fear. Good. She should be afraid. "What have you seen?"

Sven was silent for a long while. They allowed him time to gather his thoughts. "When the ship landed, I was able to make my escape from the hanger into the mountains through the river. Once I got inside, I couldn't move far because of my injuries. I found a series of caves that the slaves had been working on for years. Eventually I found a few doctors who were able to help me with what little material they had, but… they eventually were called away…

"Adult men are sent straight to the arena. Young adults and teenagers are sent to the slave barracks to be tattooed, then sent to work zones where they work anywhere from twenty to twenty-four hours a day. Basically for as long as they can stand until they're exhausted. If they can make it to the barracks, they're allowed two hours of sleep. If they can't, they're whipped and forced back to work. Most people die from the whippings alone."

It took Sven a long moment to speak again. It made me wonder what things he had seen before he had found me. "Children don't last long there."

"There are _children_ on that planet?"

"Most families try to hide them. If they're found, they're taken care of in two ways; either they're sent to the arena for the amusement of its crowd, or they're eaten alive by Robeasts as consequences for rebellion."

_She _gasped loudly. What a stupid woman to think that children would be shown mercy.

"The slaves call that planet 'Doom.' Once you're there, it's very likely you never leave."

A heavy silence clung to the room. Sven – I assumed – sighed loudly. "Women are sent to the work zones or the arena as well. Unless they're human-like, with blonde hair."

My memories were temporarily stopped when Sven uttered those words. Was he really going to tell the Princess what I thought he was?

"Blonde hair… specifically?"

"They're lined up and sent straight to Lotor's harem." he whispered. "Most of them are young – sixteen to eighteen. It's well known amongst the guards that Lotor made a specific request for virgins."

There was obvious tension. I wanted to think about the shock and horror that would be on _her_ face, but I couldn't escape my own memories this time.

"Princess," Sven whispered again. "When I found Romelle in the Pit of Skulls, she was dressed in the outfit of the harem girls. I think she was sent there for the same reason as all the others – because she looks exactly like you."

_Oh my dear. You defy me beautifully. I can see you're scared, but that's okay. That's okay. I absolutely look forward to breaking you. Defy me. Show me that fire. _

My hands were pinned above my head.

_Defy me with the fire you hate me with. Show it to me. Then let me watch as it breaks and cowers before me. _

He leaned in close, those amber eyes looking at me gently, but viciously.

_I want to make you scream. Then I want you to proclaim me worthy._

I felt my hands shaking as they gripped the sheets. I had to get a hold of myself. This would be the absolute worst moment for them to discover I had been awake all along.

"He's as sick as we thought," that strong voice spoke again. Then, much more gently, "Princess? Are you going to be okay?"

I heard a few sniffs.

"You should go rest. This is a lot of information to take in such a short amount of time."

"You're probably right." The broken voice didn't go unnoticed. There was a rustle of fabric once again, the light click of heels on the floor. "Sven, thank you for sharing that with me. It is my promise to you that I will do everything I can to help you and those slaves… and Romelle."

How _dare_ she assume she can help me?

"Keith, take this. If you'd like, I can give you detailed routs of the caves or any other thing I can think of."

"I'd appreciate it." That voice – Keith, I guess it was – sounded much different than it had moments ago. "Rest for now, Sven, but any intel you can give me about anything I'll happily use."

Two sets of shoes moved across the floor. The door opened and shut. I felt ashamed and exposed. My eyelids felt heavy, but I didn't want to sleep in the middle of fresh memories. I wasn't sure that I could prevent it. Maybe nightmares were to follow me no matter where I went. Closing my eyes, I slightly moved my face across my pillow, feeling the cold dampness of tears.

* * *

The next time I woke up, I was lying on my back. The lighting in the room was still dim. I wondered if Sven had requested it that way. Regular sunlight was much too powerful for either of us to handle for now. I tried to recall how the lighting was before I was drugged, but I was too distracted by all that was happening to really notice. The windows were open, but the glass appeared to be tainted. The moon shone over the landscape beyond the castle. I shifted, slightly uncomfortable. I must have been on my back for a while.

Movement in the corner of the room caught my eye. Startled, I turned to see a man in a red uniform standing mere feet from my bed. My heart started hammering in my chest. How long had he been standing there?

In a clear voice, he spoke, "I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't realize you'd wake up."

Not exactly comforting to hear. I gripped the sheets to stop my hands from shaking. I recognized the voice from earlier when Sven was giving his report, and the strong, authoritative voice speaking to us upon our rescue. Was this man Keith? His dark hair reached his shoulders, and his posture suddenly straightened as he bowed slightly.

"I'm being rude. My name is Keith Kogane. I'm the Captain of the Voltron Force."

"What are you doing here?" I whispered, trying to keep the fear from my voice.

"Sven asked that I stay with you while Dr. Gorma gave him a final examination."

I looked to the other side of the room. It was different from the one I had been brought to earlier. This one was larger, with more than enough space for two occupants. The bed near mine had sheets that were disrupted. The IV stand was missing. An open tray had small morsels of food left over.

I turned back to Keith. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long," he answered. He took a step forward, moving very slowly. "Sven should be back anytime soon." I finally noticed he had this odd look to him. His face held something between sorrow and a grimace as he looked at my neck and briefly scanned the length of my body. When he looked at my face, he seemed to be looking at something entirely different. "Since Sven is under my command, any person he brings to the castle whom he's rescued is not only under his care, but mine. I want to assure you we'll do everything we can to help you and bring you back to good health."

They way he looked at me made me more nervous. Why did he stare so intently? "I don't need the help of Arusians," I answered, the only thing I could think of while he looked at me.

"That's fine. My team is from Earth. Would you accept our help instead?"

"I don't need the help of anyone who associates with Arus."

"Why's that?"

I kept my mouth shut. Keith took another step forward. He stood a few steps away from the bed now, his hands still at his side and his back straight. He looked every inch of the Captain he said he was, but there was still this haunted look in his eyes that I couldn't identify.

"You don't have to answer any questions I ask," he said quietly.

"You're right."

"And I don't expect you to. I didn't come here to interrogate you." He took a moment and looked long at my face again, paused at my neck, and went back to my eyes. "I just wanted to restate that we'll do everything we can to take care of you."

"You'll give free aid to a complete stranger?" Pollux would never do such a thing, especially to a rival.

"We'd help anyone, especially someone who's been under Lotor's cruelty."

Suddenly, it occurred to me. Fear of this stranger in my room made me miss it, but it all made sense. Sven had told them that Lotor favored virgins above all others, especially those who looked like _her_. I felt my shoulders relax and my face tilt more toward his. "Oh, I understand," I said quietly. "You're getting an idea of what would happen if you fail."

He looked away. It was all the confirmation I needed.

"Go ahead and stare," I goaded. "Look upon reality. Let it haunt you every night of your existence on this miserable planet. Does it scare you?" Feeling daring, I went in for the kill. "Do you care for her?"

He looked right at me. "Allura is a wonderful ruler who has given us more than we could ask for."

"A proper answer, of course. You can't hide it. I'll be in your nightmares for years to come." I turned away and looked at the moon. "How arrogant of you to never realize what would happen if you were killed. You hope for the best without preparing for the worst."

"I know what Lotor is capable of."

"Does she?" I looked back at him. "Or do you hide it from her?"

"When we arrived here, this planet was in ruins. The only reason you see it like it is now is _because _of the hope Voltron gave her people. The hope it gave _her_. Allura is well aware of what Zarkon can do."

"I never said anything about Zarkon. I'm sure he wishes for little more than her death. Zarkon can raze planets." I paused, making sure I had his attention. "Lotor will break your Princess until there is nothing but what he's created her to be."

The Captain said nothing. He stared at me, that grimace on his face deepening. The door opened, startling us both. A man walked in with a nurse right behind him. He stopped short of the bed. "Keith, are you alright?"

Keith looked at me briefly before turning towards the door. "I'm fine. How're you?"

"He needs his sleep," the nurse interrupted, standing nearby. "But he looks well. We applied more antibiotics to his stitches and they're healing nicely."

I felt my eyes widen. I didn't recognize him, but once he spoke I realized I was looking at Sven. His beard was completely gone, and his hair had been cut very, very short. There was a bandage applied right between his eyebrows, and another just under his hairline. The nurse grabbed a stocking cap and helped him put it on. When he looked at me, I couldn't believe I was looking at the same man. His eyes weren't as bloodshot as they were the last time I saw him.

He looked at me for a moment then looked at Keith. "What were you two talking about?"

"Nothing much," Keith answered, but he gave me one last look before walking to the door. "I'll let you guys rest. See you in the morning."

Sven waited until the nurse left before turning to me again. "What did you say to him?"

I didn't answer. I rested my head on the pillows and turned back to the windows. If Sven hadn't figured it out by now, I wouldn't give him the comfort of an answer.


End file.
